


How to lose a guy in 10 days: Vamp!Lock AU

by MorganeUK



Series: Rom-com adaptations... [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Developing Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Happily Ever After, Idiots in Love, John Watson is not, John being patient AF, Kissing, M/M, Molly and Greg friendship, Pining John, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Vampire Sherlock, a bet, romcom adaptation, trick - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2020-10-29 15:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 33,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20798864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorganeUK/pseuds/MorganeUK
Summary: Sherlock Holmes is a delectable vampire who is constantly pushing away enamoured men and women as he is not interested at all in love.  Doctor John H. Watson is a man/womanizer, nobody can resist him! But it is only for a night or two…A vamp!lock version of the wonderful and silly romcom “How to lose a guy in 10 days!”, especially for Fictober!** Each story in the romcom series is independent and not-related at all BUT I started a new series for my babies vampires :) **





	1. It will be fun, trust me.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [K2tog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/K2tog/gifts).

> K2tog: Just realized that you were the one that suggested How to loose a guy! So here you go :)
> 
> Note: For the vampire part of the story, think of something like True Blood. Just an additional twist :)
> 
> Each chapter come from this list: https://fictober-event.tumblr.com/post/187637998976/fictober-2019
> 
> Beta read by the wonderful Notjustmom!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At Bart, Molly is crying bucket over another amorous deception...

_ Oh no, she is crying.  _ Sherlock was about to turn on his heels to get out of the morgue when Lestrade grabbed his coat.

“No! You are going nowhere!” Knowing that the vampire was strong enough to walk away, the DI appreciated when he stopped. They needed Molly for a case, but obviously it wasn’t the right time. Discreetly, he murmured, “what can we do? Do you know what happened?”

“The same, as always,” Sherlock sighed, thinking about the case and the experiment he wanted to do that morning, “always the same.”  _ Poor Molly, she is constantly falling in love with men that are too dumb to accept her and her quirkiness. _ Turning towards Lestrade he smirked,  _ and not realizing that she already knows the man perfect for her. _

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Lestrade asked, uncomfortable, “did you… eat… drank… whatever you are calling it, this morning?”

“Drinking is boring,” the vampire replied, knowing that the older man was going to freak out a bit.  _ We’ve known each other for years; he knows that I am not going to harm anyone! _ He waited a few seconds and rolled his eyes. “Of course, I drank yesternight. I am full, do not worry Graham.”

“Greg.” Breathing a bit better, Lestrade chuckled. “You know, you look normal, except for that public school broom in the arse look that you’ve got, but you said things like ‘yesternight’ and suddenly I remember that you are old enough to have been at the same kindergarten as Queen Victoria.”

Looking longingly in direction of the fridge drawer where a body was waiting for him, the 150-year-old vampire muttered, “that is preposterous, ‘Drina never went to kindergarten, she had tutors, like me. We even shared the same music -” A big sob closed the conversation before Lestrade even had the time to analyse the link between the consultant detective and royalty and asked questions. Frowning with disgust at the sound of Molly blowing her nose, Sherlock slapped the policeman lightly. “You go talk to her! She needs a friend.”

“You are her friend also,” Greg recoiled, terrified at the idea of helping the woman he had a crush on for years getting over another man or, even worse, to get back with the bastard! “Go ahead, just… don’t be yourself too much, you know.” Mumbling something about how he should channel his inner Freud, he pushed him into the pathologist’s office.

“Molly!” Sherlock said, before patting her back awkwardly. “There, there, do not cry for that imbecile, he doesn't deserve you.”

“I’m not crying!” The flood presently falling from her eyes telling another story, “anyway, what do you know about love! About pining for someone!”

“Nothing, really, it is just that –“

“You are so beautiful, so attractive, so intelligent, so bloody mysterious that everyone is –“

Not liking the idea of being the centre of such a discussion, the detective protested, “Molly, I do not think that –“

“ANYONE! Women and men! Or if I want to be 100% accurate, heterosexual and homosexual of either sex!” She walked away of him and looked at his gracious yet strong silhouette, “the way that even straight men or gay women desire you is sickening and totally… totally UNFAIR!”

“It happened only once and –“

As her anger needed to be directed at someone, a man if available (any species will do), she shouted, “a woman on her way to her wedding! A LESBIAN wedding!”

“I did not do anything, I never asked –“

“Yes, and this is why this is so unjust!” Hugging her tissue box, she opened the door and entered the morgue smiling shyly at Greg before turning is attention back onto Sherlock. “You see, you can have any one of your choices, but you are all alone. This is really sad in fact. Poor, poor Sherlock.”

“When did this become MY problem,” Sherlock turned to Lestrade, begging silently for help. “Anyway, this is not true, I cannot have anyone I want.” Trying to cheer her up, he added, “it is you that can have anyone! You are beautiful, funny, independent… Any man would be lucky to have you at his side!”

“If I am sooooo wonderful, why are they dumping me!” Sherlock was about to open his mouth when the DI quickly shook his head in panic. His eyes screaming ‘nooooo you do not want to go there mate!’ Looking at both men one after the other, Molly shouted, “WHAT!”

Not listening to Lestrade silent pleading, Sherlock positioned his hands in his usual ‘I am thinking and perusing on different ways to destroy your world’ way. “Hum… You are clingy, constantly talking about your cat, working strange hours but expecting him to be near you whenever you have the time, jealous, too emotional, you have an abnormal attachment to someone called Darcy, you are usually dressed as an old librarian –“

“Stop!” Lestrade shouted, his face red from indignation, head in his hands in hopelessness.  _ The git! _

Heartbroken, Molly sat on a stool and placed her face on the cold metal table, murmuring between her tears, “that is not true! And even if it is, YOU could puke on someone’s shoes and he or she would find it endearing and… and sexy…” Her sobs threatened to start anew. 

Sherlock sat gingerly beside her, “that is not true, anyway vampires do not puke! That’s so vulgar! As if!” As a light smile appeared on Molly’s lips at the use of the colloquial expression, the detective continued, “you know it is true, even I would not be able to keep someone if I was acting the way you... ordinary people act!”

A glimpse of merriment in his eyes, Lestrade asked innocently, “do you want to bet on that?” At his friend’s questioning frown at the suggestion, Molly giggled, her mind escaping a bit from her sadness for a moment. Happy to be the cause of the woman laughter, the DI smiled, “it will be fun, trust me.”

  
  
Stamford, who was on the other side of the room quietly filling out some forms, shook his head.  _ This is not going to end well! _


	2. Just follow me, I know the area

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small gathering to celebrate John's good fortune turned into a competition!

"Come on Johnny boy! Another beer to celebrate your new job", one of Watson's army friends said while playfully pushing the man until he nearly fell from his stool, "oh, sorry mate! I hope I didn't hurt you?" 

"No, no, don't worry, you are not strong enough to hurt anybody!" Another one, Murray, teased, lifting his glass with a wink. "Especially, Three Continents Watson!" 

Rolling his eyes, John protested, "do not call me that, it was a long time ago and -" 

"You are still successful with the ladies... and the lads!" Murray laughed loudly, getting the attention of the people around them. 

They were in a grubby but warm pub, the small gathering an occasion to celebrate the doctor’s new position in a nearby surgery. After a tough year full of therapy sessions and physiotherapy, he was finally in a better place. Physically and mentally. _And now I am going to make a bit of money! _The position was not that glorious and wasn’t worth a big happening, but he was pleased to have his friends around him. It was the best thing that happened to him since… since he cannot remember when! Being able to help, to work as a doctor – even if it was only to give shots and pills for STDs – was way better than staying in his bedsit waiting for something to happen. _Yes, everything is going to be better!_

A little joyful commotion erupted in the pub when Stamford entered, as John’s college friend’s good and funny nature were appreciated by everyone. 

“Stamford! You are right on time,” a clearly inebriated Murray called, “Watson was talking about his conquests!” 

“No, you talked about this nonsense, not me!” John protested as he quickly shook hands with his old friend. 

“I bet you have plenty of story from uni to tell us…” someone shouted. 

Ordering a beer, Stamford smiled mischievously, “I will not disclose anything that I shouldn’t, but...” 

An hour later, everyone was relaxing, eating greasy food and chatting amicably at a table in the back of the pub. John, relaxed but not really drunk, smiled as he looked around the table. His friends were having fun, talking about work, life, girlfriend, kids, teasing each other when the possibility arose. But they know they are always there for anyone who asked for help. _ Even when someone thinks he doesn’t need it! I am so lucky. This, this is my family. _He was slowly phasing out when he heard his name. “What?” 

“Just asking, what about you, John? Any prospect for a Ms or Mr Watson?” Murray repeated, with a friendly but concerned look. The thought of his friend being all alone when he deserved so much love was worrying and saddening him. 

“No, no one...” he muttered, his nose in his beer, “don’t think it’s for me anyway!” 

“Don’t say that mate, you are a really good man, surely you can find someone!” Stamford protested. 

“True, you are really good at getting but not really good at keeping,” one of his army mates chuckled before Murray quickly slapped him on the shoulder.

“I am not only a one-night stand man for them!” John argued, even if he wasn’t that sure about it! “They are in love with me! For real! It’s just that... life... life is complicated and...” He closed his eyes a moment, the enormous quantity of men and women who only stayed with him for a few dates before breaking. _Oh God, is this real. NO! I am a good sort of man, a doctor, I am a catch!_ “They are in love with me, I am not THAT pathetic!” 

Giggling, one of his friends at the end of the table (who was a bit too drunk to say cohesive things), knocked on the table theatrically. “Proof it!” 

The doctor nearly gave himself a whiplash when he turned towards the voice, “what?” 

_ Oh, this is nice, _ Murray thought as he added to the discussion, “let’s say we give you 15 days to prove that someone is in love with you!” 

“This is ridiculous!” John protested. 

“October 31st, the Halloween Party of the veterans committee!” Another one shouted from the other side of the big table, “you bring your date!” 

“You see, it’s perfect!” Murray added as if it was a done deal. 

Flabbergasted by the turn of the discussion, the doctor put his pint down, “no, this is ridiculous! And why the Hell would I accept something that crazy!” 

"For love!", an army friend catcalled, theatrically blinking his eyes seductively. 

"And tickets for the finals," Murray added to the deal, knowing that John wouldn't be able to resist. The tickets were already sold out, but one of his friends worked for the team.

_Shit, the finals. That is not right mate._ Admitting the defeat, he tried one last time, "but -"

Spotting a tall man near the door, Stamford smiled at his good luck. “I am sure that you are able!” 

_ Traitor _! “Mike, not you, too!” 

“It’s going to be fun... we just need to find you someone, now!” 

30 minutes ago... 

“Okay, the day is over!” Lestrade said, massaging his neck. “We have everything that we need to close the case.” 

“Yes, if the judge is not a moron, the case against the killer is pretty solid,” Sherlock confirmed, satisfied with the work they have done in the last few hours._ Even with Molly periodically sniffling! _

“Let go for a beer then. Molly, are you joining us?” The DI asked, looking at the cute pathologist expectantly.

The small woman, even if she was still a bit under the water, smiled luminously at Lestrade. _ This is ridiculous, this is only Greg _ . “Yes, I am! And Sherlock you must come with us, no excuses.” She knew that getting out is not his forte. Vampires were broadly accepted, but the man attitude was already often problematic in society. _Except for the people ensnared by his beauty, of course._

“Why?” The vampire protested as he was already trying to find a suitable excuse. 

“Because we need to find you a date!” Laughing, she grabbed her coat and purse, “follow me, I know the area around Bart’s and where to find the perfect pub!” 


	3. Now? Now you listen to me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two guys in a pub…

_ What am I doing here? _ Sherlock thought for the umpteenth time. To say that it wasn’t his usual scene was an understatement… and the happy-hour crowd did not help, at all! _ What is so ‘happy’ about it anyway? Look at them, all so vacant, just happy that the day at work is over. How pathetic! And to think that some of us still love the physical contact of drinking directly from one. _A shiver of disgust ran thru his spine at the idea. He had done it decades ago, of course, but the interaction needed to do it still left a bad feeling in his mouth. As he was against violence, he used to simply ensnare his chosen ‘victim’… with the obvious disadvantage of having to deal with them until his voluntarily boorish attitude finally broke the spell.

“Sherlock!” Molly said impatiently as she placed a hand on his forearm, “are you with us?”

Still lost in his thoughts, the tall man stays focussed on the perusing he was doing. _ Thank God for the synthetic blood, I do not have to deal with that anymore! _ He silently chuckled about how good he used to be at getting rid of the too enamoured man or woman. _ Usually, in maximum four days it was over! Molly and Lestrade gave me ten days, it is way more than needed! _

Molly was still rambling at his side when something she said finally got through his thoughts. “What did you say? About a ‘parlour trick’?”

“Oh…” She chuckled at her friends selective hearing, “**now** you are listening to me?” She smiled and repeated, “I said that you must not use your psychic parlour trick to make them love you if at all possible if you do it is not fair!“ Frowning as he opened his mouth to protest, she quickly added, “and why are you so distant? You must engage more with people, you know. It’s a pub, not a battlefield of some sort.”

“Yes, yes, sorry. I was… evaluating this _ wonderful _ place.” The vampire remarked snidely.

“I know that you are not in your element, but I think it’s a nice place to start,” the pathologist protested, suddenly unsure.

Greg, always a gentleman and wanting to support Molly, added, “and no way are we going to choose someone for you at the Ritz or the Criterion!”

Turning slowly around, Sherlock evaluated the crowd, his mind assaulted by the people surrounded him. _ Office problems, boring! Cheating partners, boring! Lack of money, boring! Alcoholism, boring! _ He discreetly spotted a few military men at the back of the pub, unable to read more about them because of the low lighting. Even if the uniform were less theatrical then a century ago, it was always a sight to be reckoned with. Something about the power, the control, the will to follow or give orders. The routine, the strict precision of it… He sighed as fond memories surged in his mind. _ And to think that they want me to seduce someone without using my… advantage. _

He was about to say that all this was utterly stupid when his eyes locked with someone at the back of the pub. _ Oh, hello you. _

“We are going to find you someone, right now!” Murray laughed, unsteady on his feet as he stood up a bit too quickly. _First, a man or a woman. _As he was looking around, his eyes fluttered at the view of a curvaceous blond woman, when Stamford discreetly nudged him in the direction of the pub entryway. _Oh my fucking God, is that man even real! This is going to be perfect! _“Watson?” John’s friend called, waiting to get the doctor’s attention before continuing, “we found our candidate.” With a Machiavellian smile, he discreetly pointed his hand in the direction of the tall and breathtaking man who had entered the establishment a moment ago. “Come on, do your magic.”

Shaking his head at the stupidity of all this, but complying for his friends’ amusement, he slowly turned in the direction his mate was pointing. _ The cute little woman? This should be easy! But isn’t she with that grey hair man? He looks at her with a hint of possessiveness. _“I would try with pleasure, but I do not think that grey hair man is going to be pleased about –“

“The man in the navy trench? I do not think he is going to mind at all, he’s clearly attracted to that vivacious but mousy type of woman beside him.”

“What are you talking about –“ John started before he realized who he was talking about. _ The man. The gorgeous, tall, severe-looking man next to them. _“Murray! You must be crazy,” he muttered quickly his eyes unable to look away from the sexiest man alive, “he’s out of my league!”

“Don’t be stupid, Captain Watson, soldier on!” Stamford chuckled with a wink.

Mouth agape and thinking that everyone was definitely winking way too much, his eyes narrowed on the cupid bow lips that were currently pouting as he talked to his companions. _ He looks unpleased about something. _ Imagining a deep and silky voice, the only one that he can envision with such a suggestive body, John resolutely put down his pint. Nodding to himself, _ yes I can do that, I’ve done two tours in Afghanistan for God sakes! _ he rose from his chair and walked in the direction of the Adonis. 

  


Not knowing why, Sherlock walked purposely in the direction of the back of the pub, eyes locked on the blond man’s ones. _ What is this, he is not of my kind, how could he be so… so attractive. _ Surveying the shorter man’s appearance, he grabbed everything he could. The short hair, the nearly invisible limp, he was well-built, lean but quietly powerful, the ordinary outfit composed of corduroy trousers, a cotton button-down shirt and a wool sweater. _ Nothing special, nothing of importance, nothing out of the ordinary. _

But instantly he was the only thing Sherlock was able to think about.

Suddenly in front of each other, in the middle of the teeming crowd, the vampire was finally able to add more data to his analysis. _ Deep, dark blue eyes, a hint of gunpowder and tea, luminous smile, clear and charming voice, made for seduction. Wait, voice? How could I know his voice? Oh, right, he is talking. Now. _ “Sorry, did you say something?”

“Yes,” John chuckled, intimidated but captivated by the man in front of him. “I was only introducing myself. So, I’ll do it again, right?” Extending his hand, he started all over again. “Hi, my name is John Watson,” nodding in the direction of the bar, he added timidly, “may I buy you a drink?”

“No.” Sherlock replied, softening his reply as soon as he saw the deception on the man’s face, “I mean, not here… too many people… I can’t hear myself think. I know a nice restaurant. Come with me.”

As the detective turned on his heel to walk out of the pub, John laughed incredulously, “just like that?”

Stopping, the vampire frowned, unfamiliar with the resistance to what can only be called an order. “Something wrong?”

“I do not know you, you don’t know me, I don’t know where we are going… I don’t even know your name!”

“My name is Sherlock Holmes, the restaurant is Angelo’s on Northumberland Street. Go get your coat, I am waiting for you outside.” And with a wink, he left the pub.

Curiously, John didn't mind this wink. Not at all.


	4. I know you didn’t ask for this.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A first date...

Outside the pub, the street was curiously silent. As if the early autumn night was conspiring against them, or maybe for them, forcing them to talk to break the silence. After a minute or two, Sherlock, unable to remain quiet, blurted, “do you want to take a cab or walk…”

Humming contently, the doctor replied, “the evening is warm for this time of the year, not a drop on the horizon, it’s about a 30 minutes walk if we follow the river.” Showing the way to the Thames with his hand, he smiled. “Let’s walk.”

“Okay,” shoving his hands his coat pockets, the vampire began to walk quickly.

“Hey, it’s not a run and some people have shorter legs then you,” John joked as he tried to keep up.

“Sorry.” Sherlock stopped altogether, uneasy about the whole thing, not knowing how to act.

“You don’t need to stop, Sherlock, just walk a bit slower and I am going to walk a bit faster and we are going to be in sync.”  _ What is wrong with him, he’s the one who asked me out! _

“Okay.” After a few meters, they found the perfect steps to walk in the same rhythm.

It was really strange for the vampire to have someone so near without… without having any sense of what to do with him. Neither drinking from him, even if something unusual caused his own blood to sing, nor quickly seduced him to get whatever he wanted from him_. This is unsettling__!_ He was fighting his instinct to draw the cute man to him. _Stop this, _he chided himself_, he is not a suspect that I need to interrogate, and you haven’t fed from a ‘donor’ in decades!_ _I need to be careful, I promised Molly to stay away from tricks. But this is ridiculous, he needs to be in love with me if I must push him away afterwards! And I will be unable to do that without using... my advantages._

As they were walking in front of Old Bailey, John quivered theatrically, trying to find a subject of conversation. “Brrrr, to think of all the criminals who passed here! The hangings used to take place here, in the street… This is an impressive building but a bit creepy, isn’t?”

“It’s only bricks and mortar, but it’s true that its history is quite something.” A small smirk on his beautiful lips, he muttered, “but an ex-soldier is certainly not afraid of ghost stories.”

“How… what… how could you know about that?” Waiting a bit, he chuckled at the thought of his friends still at the pub, “is it because I was surrounded by soldiers, they weren’t in uniform, but they talked about the force a lot and loudly. You heard them?”

“No, not really, but even if you were alone, I would have known.” The detective stated flatly.

Laughing, John tried to find something clever to say, “I didn’t know I walked out of the pub with a psychic, that’s exciting.”

Disgusted, Sherlock repeated, “a PSYCHIC!”

“Hey, it wasn’t an insult, sorry…”  _ God, this is not easy! _ “How do you know then? Explain, I am curious.”

Still offended, the vampire quickly said everything he deduced previously, “your hair, even if it is a bit longer, still hasn’t shaken the army traditional cut, your walk has a certain rigidity that screams military, especially when you are putting your hands on your back which you constantly do.” Stopping his stride again, he turned to look at John more carefully. Gauging the man from top to bottom, he questioned, “Afghanistan or Iraq?” 

Unsettled by the glorious man’s scrutiny, John muttered an amazed, “what?”

“You’ve got a faint tan line right below your shirt sleeves, the sort of tan one gets when working outside for a long period of time in, let's say, a uniform. I estimated that you came back to the UK nearly a year ago.” He paused and tilted his head, “to have a suntan on your hands and face that still visible, even if fainting, such a long time after your return it can only mean that you were based outside the UK. So, Afghanistan or Iraq?” As John remained gobsmacked, Sherlock started to walk again, raising his shoulder dismissively. “Nothing as magical as palm reading, I’m sorry.”

Rushing behind him, the doctor chuckled, elated, “this is… this is brilliant!”

“Oh,” the detective muttered, nonplussed, “that’s not what people say usually.”

“What do they say?” John curiously asked.  _ It is brilliant, what else could be said! _

“Piss off!”

Both laughing, they walked in the direction of the restaurant. 

“He really  _ really _ likes you,” John murmured to his date. They were now sitting in Angelo’s best table, a bottle of wine between them. As well as a few candles, because it is more romantic! Food was on his way, the best food available, without either of them looking at a menu.

“Yes, I saved him a few years ago, since then he is overbearingly familiar.” Pouring the free excellent wine, he smiles, “but it has some advantages.”

The evening, after the first hiccup was going wonderfully! Sherlock talked about his work, John about his time in the army as a surgeon, both finding an echo of what they are in the other. The thrill of danger, the excitement of having to think fast, the will to save people by using their skills.

It was going tremendously well.

John was about to take his glass when he halted his movement, something caught his attention.  _ His eyes, they… they are changing.  _ The difference was hard to see outside, at that time of the day, but now with the reflection of the candle, it was obvious. The telltale of vampirism.  _ He’s a vampire. Murray said a man or a woman, I had hoped for at least someone human! _ He quickly chastised himself for such a non-charitable thought.  _ They are like us, but different. It’s just that I never, and he’s so fucking beautiful, and -  _

“Ask, you are dying to.” Sherlock said, both wincing at the use of the word ‘dying’.

Already back on his feet, the doctor asked demurely, “so, you, you don’t have a girlfriend or… a boyfriend?”

Surprised by the question, the vampire frowned, “no, not really my area.”

“And… and you are a… vampire?” John paused, unable to shake the feeling that Sherlock was inwardly laughing about his clumsiness, “which is fine, by the way.”

“I know it’s fine, anyway it’s not like I have any other choice, right?”

“Right. So, no boyfriend?” John asked again as it was in fact, the most important question!

“No.”

“Unattached, good. Like me, yes, that is good.”  _ What is the status about relationships between vampire and human, can couples have the same rights, how does it work? Oh my God, stop this nonsense, John! _

Knowing that the doctor was probably thinking about weird facts and stories, true and false, the detective smiled sadly. “I know you didn’t ask for this,” Sherlock elegantly waved his hand in front of his face before pointing to his canines (currently retracted, thank God!), “and I am usually considering myself married to my work but…”

“Yes?”

“Do you want to go on another date tomorrow?”


	5. I might just kiss you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it a date if running is involved?

“And that’s it!” John said to Murray who called to check if he was still alive, choosing to stay silent about the ‘vampire’ part of the story, he laughed. “No abduction, not a gangster or a serial killer. Just a very attractive man.” The doctor was at home, doing his chores before he began work the following Monday and trying to find something suitable for his date.  _ Even if it is impossible for me to be on par with Sherlock’s clothes and overall look! _

“So, how did it go? Do you think it can be serious?” Even if teasing and a bet were the starting point of the story, he was still rooting for a happy ending for his mate.

“We walked, talked, went to a nice restaurant. We talked about our jobs, he’s a consultant detective, it’s really interesting, about my time in the army. Basic date stuff. Then we parted ways and went back to our respective flats.” He knew what his old friend was fishing for, and he wasn’t going to make it easy for him!  _ Not after the mess they put me in! Even if, in retrospect, I am pretty happy about the turn of events. _

“COME ON, WATSON!” Murray shouted in the phone, “give me something!”

“We shook hands and… are planning to see each other tonight for a second date.”

“Greg!” Molly jumped from her stool to open the lab door, “what took you so long?”

“I came as soon as possible after I received your text,” the DI said, a gentle smile on his face as the pathologist pulled him until they are both standing in front of Sherlock. 

The detective was looking at a strange bacteria that he found at a crime scene a few hours ago, totally unaware that his two friends were waiting excitedly. He was writing his observation when Lestrade, a bit tired of waiting and having other things to do with his afternoon, cleared his throat to get his attention.

Turning his head to look at the older man, who was standing really close, he acted surprised. “Oh! Lestrade, do you have news about the daughter whereabouts and the footprint we found? Though I have little faith in Anderson –“

“No!” Molly interrupted “We want news!” The young woman, who couldn’t remember seeing such an expression on Sherlock’s face as the one he had when his eyes fall upon the blond man, was eager to know what happened the night before, yesterday sadness long gone.

“I can’t tell you anything more, I am still awaiting the result from the chemical analysis and –“

“No!” It was Greg turn to be impatient, “about the date!”

“The date…” the vampire frowned, still lost in his experiment and as if the concept was foreign to him, “oh! You mean last night with John?”

“YES!”

Taming his thoughts about the wonderful man, he shrugged non-committedly, “it was… all right.” Rising from his seat, as he needed to go check something at the city hall for the case and wanted to avoid the conversation, he walked around his friends and grabbed his coat.

“Just alright?” Molly cried, “do we need to find you another man? Do you remember our deal? I can even sweeten the deal by calling next time I receive a really strange body! But no monkey business, no tricks, I want the man to be naturally infatuated by you before you test your theory!”

“True. You already look like a model; you don’t need more advantages.” A smirk appeared as he found another incentive. “If you do it, I can give you a month access to our unsolved cases database…” Greg added, thinking that the risk was zero to none, “so, do we need to find another guy?”

“Oh no, completely unnecessary…” Sherlock deadpanned as he put on his scarf, “we have a date tonight.”

_ 4 hours later… _

Panting, Sherlock waited (for his friend/date/John?), knowing perfectly well where the thief was hiding.  _ His mother’s flat, how ridiculous!  _ Placing a finger on his lips as the man appeared at his side, he murmured, “silence, we must wait until he gets out…”

“Okay, no problem.” Finding a granola bar in his coat pocket, he opened it. “Do you want to split with me? Not a grand dinner but…” Softly, the doctor chuckled silently, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. “Or do you eat at all? Yesterday you drank wine but barely ate a bite… I don’t know how it all works, didn’t learn that at Med school.”

Refusing the bar, he was rarely hungry for food, he shook his head, glum. “I am so sorry John, you made reservations for a brilliant restaurant and –“

“It’s okay, better than okay,” he whispered, “this is the best night in a long time, believe me… And that waiter was insufferable! The text from your friend the DI was perfectly timed, I was about to punch him!”

“So, you really wanted to come with me?” Sherlock countered, hesitant. “It’s not just that, you know, being a doctor and polite, you –“

“No, I wanted to –” placing a hand on the detective’s arm, he pointed out the criminal that was escaping through a well-hidden window. “Look!”

“Well done, John, I might just kiss you right now!”

“Later, we’ve got a killer to catch!”

Smiling like fools, they ran into the night in pursuit of the criminal.

And if their hearts happened to start beating a bit faster, they could simply blame the exertion of the chase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A smallish one... sorry!


	6. Yes, I’m aware. Your point?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Siblings.

Sherlock was looking at the ceiling of his bedroom, unable to rest. It wasn’t mandatory for him to sleep, as a lot of his peers he actually found the mere idea of sleeping a whole night a waste of time, but he is willing to acknowledge that relaxing a few hours a day far away from the hustle and bustle is beneficial. His room, bathed in the streetlight coming from the window, was a mix of eclectic and well-loved furniture – inherited from his parents – and his favourite books and art. 

His eyes wandered over the pictures of his family at the turn of the century when they were still together. Each one approximately a decade apart, the quality of the photography better as the technology became more reliable. The image of a perfect family, at the exception that both parents look older and older until the effect was more of grandparents with their grandchildren. Until Sherlock and his brother came alone to the studio.

The room was his inner sanctum, the most personal space of the flat. The place where his long life was the most obvious. Far away from the prying eyes of those obtuse people who have archaic ideas about vampires. He shrugged at the thought of the invasive visit of Lestrade and Donovan where, under the pretext of looking for missing evidence, the hateful woman entered his bedroom. Touching everything, commenting on his life as she was entitled to!  _ What! No coffin? I thought you lot like to sleep with dead things! _

_ But John, I know he won’t act like that. Unlike all these uneducated people. He accepts me as a person. I… I think. _

Unable to stop himself, his mind wandered, thinking back to the wonderful evening he,  _ they _ , had. The joy of having a companion while running down the street, someone to care for as well as somebody who would watch his back.  _ He looked really pleased by all this... I wonder what he’s doing right now? Is he thinking about me? It’s only our second date but it is going well. I think that if I keep the nuisance to a minimum, he is going to fall in love with me. His reaction to our kiss was... favourable. _

The image was still clear in his head, saved for eternity in his Mind Palace. The trepidation after they got their hands on the thief, the sudden shyness once the cops departed and left them alone. The giggling that took over at the silliness of the whole affair – the culprit jumped over a fence, but his jeans remained behind – and the look they suddenly exchanged. Heavy and light at the same time. Full of expectation, of unsaid desire.

Not wanting to alarm the doctor, Sherlock waited for him to make the first move. Thankfully it didn’t take that long! Using his strong arms, the ex-captain impatiently dragged him in the first not too creepy lane and pushed him against the brick wall before pressing his mouth against the vampire’s lips murmuring _Is this okay?_ Sherlock groaned at the memory, his hands travelling down his lite body. _Is this okay!_ _Does he really think that I could deny him and push him away? As if it were possible! _Unable to rein in his own desire, he fumbled with his trousers button, his fingers shaking. _What is happening to me, it is not my way, it is only transport! _Powerless, he succumbed to the temptation, calling John’s name, all ideas of the game forgotten. 

_ _

A few hours later he was relaxing (nearly asleep but he will never admit it.) when the feeling of someone in the flat sent all his senses on alert until he recognized a well-known aftershave.  _ Noooooooooooooooo. _ Turning onto his front, he hides his face on one of his many fluffy pillows.  _ If I do not acknowledge him, maybe he will go away. _

After a small knock on the door, Mycroft opened the door and sighed at his younger sibling’s attitude. “Really mature, brother mine, really mature. Mother would be proud.” Turning back to the kitchen, he put the kettle on and waited for the water to boil, thinking once more that the electric kettle was one of the greatest inventions of the last century.  _ That and the Internet. Being aware of everything and everyone is much easier with the Internet, Berners-Lee is really a wonderful addition to our little community. _

Officially the public servant in charge of everything ‘vampiric’, Mycroft Holmes was way more than that. He was the intermediary between two factions, the unofficial leader of the British vampires. Truly well suited for the job, he was already on his way for an important position in the Gladstone government when the change happened. After a few weeks of sick leave, he simply continued to work and, when the fact that he wasn’t ageing become evident, it was already too late. He knew too much. He owned too many secrets. He was simply irreplaceable. So, he simply officially added working with the newly in the open vampire community to his current mandate to everyone’s satisfaction and, if they are honest, concern about the omniscient man.  _ _

  
  


He was pouring tea when Sherlock finally walked out of the bathroom where he had taken refuge for the last ten minutes. Pulling out a kitchen chair, Mycroft discreetly confirmed that it was clean before sitting on it.  _ I should really pay Ms Hudson more _ . “Here you go, a good tea.”

Taking the tea even if he was angry at his brother’s presence, he attacked, “stop the pretence, what do you want?”

“I am going to be brief, then.” The government man replied between sips. “Are you out of your mind?”

Knowing perfectly what his prying brother was talking about, Sherlock feigned ignorance. “What are you talking about?”

“Do not think that I am stupid,” the older man sighed, as if suddenly tired, “your new friend, Doctor John H. Watson, is a HUMAN!”

At the spite in the word, as if it was an insult, Sherlock replied coldly. “I’m aware, thank you. Your point?”

Too full of himself to sense his brother’s ire, he demanded, “do you want to play with the man and feed on him? I can arrange his disappearance, or –“

“How dare you!” Taking the teacup from his older brother’s hand, he threw it against the kitchen wall. “Get out.”

“Sherlock –“

“GET OUT”.


	7. No, and that’s final.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Siblings, take two.

John was still sleeping and in the middle of a wonderful dream when the doorbell rang. Pushing away for the moment the delicious image of Sherlock in his bed, he hauled his tired body out of the bed with difficulty.  _ Arggggg. I need to be in better shape if I want to follow his sexy long legs! _ As the doorbell rang again, he screamed, “coming!” becoming more and more irritated by the intrusion. Hugging his bathrobe around him to hide his raging morning wood, he opened the door without his usual polite smile, taken aback when he saw his sister on the front step. “Harry? It’s not that I am unhappy to see you but… what the Hell are you doing here at seven in the morning? On a Sunday!”

“You sent me a text about your new job yesterday, I am here to celebrate with you, of course! Before you start to work tomorrow morning!” Entering the flat without seeking permission to do so, she opened a paper bag from Paul on the kitchen countertop. “I brought half-a-dozen of croissants and good coffee. Come on, tell me you are delighted to see me!”

Laughing and shaking his head, it’s hard to resist his sister when she’s in a good mood, John walked to the bathroom for his morning routine. “If you eat all the croissants, I am going to kill you, Harriet Watson, give me a few minutes.”

“Do not worry,” she paused a few seconds before adding playfully, “but be quick, you never know!”

Rushing, he quickly washed his teeth and chased away his sleepy eyes with a cold flannel. Longingly, he looked at the shower, the idea of a morning wank postponed for the moment even if it was torture to do so. The kiss he exchanged with the tall vampire still on his lips even if hours had passed. Dreamily, he slid the pad of his thumb on his teeth and touched his canines, trying to remember if Sherlock’s had felt different.  _ No, don’t be stupid. He told you, it’s only if he wants to! It can just ‘drop’ like that!  _ He was about to reconsider the shower when his sister called and knocked playfully on the door.

“Hey! What are you doing in there? Don’t have time for jerking off, I’m going for a second croissant and your coffee is going to be cold!”

Turning red, John opened the bathroom door. “Harry! Could you please? We are adults now, no need to be a brat!”

“Come on Johnny, take your coffee before it turns cold.

After his coffee and a croissant with an insane amount of jam, the doctor was less inclined to throw his sister out of the building or through the window. It was… nice. Unusual for them, even if since his return from the army, Harry became a good sister. Her life was at a nice place and alcohol a bad memory from the past, but that kind of friendship was hard to gain back. 

They were talking about family and work, that things with Clara were back to being great, etc when Harry asked her usual question. “And what about you, John, have you found a lucky someone?”

Not knowing how to define his relationship with Sherlock, it was only the beginning, he shrugged his shoulders and murmured, “maybe.”

Eyes sparkling with curiosity, she asked, “oh… who is she? Or he?”

Regretting a bit the day he told her that he was bisexual, he exhaled before replying, “he… he’s wonderful. Intelligent, beautiful, funny in the dark way that I like…” He hesitated, wondering if he should talk about the bet and about Sherlock’s main characteristic. The idea to talk to someone about the crazy last 48 hours was exhilarating but on the other hand... _Damn it!_ His feeling taking control, he muttered carefully, “never thought I was going to fall for –“

“A man?”

“A vampire.”

“A vampire!” Turning around as if she was expecting one of them in the corner of the flat, she cried, “are you crazy?”

"We aren’t in Elizabethan time any more; they are living openly with us now; Sherlock even works with the Metropolitan police!”

“Maybe but… dating? It’s not natural!”

“God, you are a hypocrite! You are a lesbian; you should know a bit about being ostracized for something you didn’t choose. He is who he is; it is his nature!”

“Maybe I’m a lesbian, but at least I am human, not a… not a FREAK!” The doctor’s face turned ashen as he stepped into the kitchen to make toast, to do something, anything. “John…” Harry pleaded, knowing she had gone too far, “I’ve got another croissant for you.”

“I don’t want it, please leave.”

Her fear and ignorance speaking again at what she saw as her brother stubbornness, she nearly yelled, “this is dangerous! They are unpredictable and violent.” Thinking about what she read in dodgy blogs, she continued her argument even if her brother was totally closing her off, “it’s like the mafia, they can do whatever they want without consequence! They control the government! JOHN! Listen to me, we need to talk about this!”

“No, and that’s final.”

Rising from her chair, she hurled a last sting, “you are really loyal, really quickly, are you under his spell?”

“GET OUT!”


	8. Can you stay?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the siblings’ drama, a bit of ‘fun’.

John was still edgy over his one-sided discussion with his sister_. How dare she say things like that? That he put a spell on me! She’s probably thinking that he controls my mind constantly! Incredible! _ Of course, he knew that it wasn’t the case, but as he had never felt that way so quickly before, he was overwhelmed. He chuckles nervously, _ and to think that the deal is to make him fall in love with me! And it’s me that… Unbelievable! _

Shaking away any doubt that it was too good to be true, he started his weekly clean-up, trying to be as ready as possible for working a whole week. _ A Monday to Friday job, I can’t believe it! Me! _ It wasn’t really what he wanted deep down, but he surely needs the money. He sighed melancholically. _ Especially if I’m going to have a posh boyfriend! _

He was about to start his laundry when his phone pinged. It was Sherlock! 

> Busy? SH 
> 
> Doing chores, nothing that can’t keep for something more interesting. 
> 
> Want to go to the museum this afternoon? Nothing too late, as you start your new job tomorrow. SH 
> 
> Yes, I really should go to bed early. Nice of you to remember about my new job! 
> 
> I am a really thoughtful person. SH 
> 
> And yes, for the museum. Where do you want to go? 
> 
> A surprise, meet me at the Borough High road exit of London Bridge station in one hour. SH 
> 
> It’s only a 20 minutes Tube ride from my place, perfect! See you in a bit. 

Grinning like a fool, John quickly loaded the machine before rushing for the shower he never had. _ Now I need I a quick one or I won’t be able to stand beside him serenely in a teeming museum. _

In Baker Street, Sherlock smiled as he read the exchange all over again. _ I am a really thoughtful person, that’s a first. He’s going to be so disgusted when I start acting... like myself. No, not like myself, like humans when they are in love and lose their self-esteem. Finding someone is so rare... Being part of a couple is being a comedian, modelling yourself to what the other expects. Except maybe when you have been friends before, then you may have a chance. _ Thinking benevolently about Lestrade and Molly, he hoped that one day they will open their eyes! _ Because, frankly, in the meantime, this is quite sickening and I want them to be tiptop on their jobs! _The idea that he may wish for their happiness for the sake of it never crossed his mind. 

After all, he was a self-declared high-functioning psychopath. 

Rapidly, he surveyed his wardrobe until he found the purple shirt he was looking for. A nice designer pair of jeans and a suit jacket and he was ready to go. 

The detective was anxiously waiting in front of the station, 10 minutes before the time of the rendezvous. Looking over his phone, he confirmed that the museum he chose was still open, that no catastrophe was going to ruin everything! _ Perfect, everything is okay, and after we can go to some place if he wants to eat. _ He was considering the inconvenience of having to think about food all the time when John stepped at his side and kissed him on the cheek. 

Sherlock’s stunned look wasn’t what he expected! “So sorry, I didn’t want to startle you... Or maybe you do not like PDA...” As the tall man remained silent, John continues his lame attempt, “It’s true that we are nowhere near PDA anyway and, Oh God, I am so sor -” 

“No, no... it’s okay,” he said as he started to breathe again, “it’s just that... except Ms Hudson, my na-, my lodger, nobody ever has done that before. It just took me by surprise. That’s all.” 

“So, we are good?” The doctor asked, shyly. 

“Yes, yes, and I think you are going to like what I have planned!” His luminous smile brightened the dark atmosphere of the rainy day. “It’s only five minutes away.” 

“Where are we going?” John asked, curious about what the genius may consider a suitable date. 

“I don’t know, maybe you know about this...” After only a few meters, he turned at the first corner. It was a nice street, a mixture of old terrace houses and modern structures. The structure of The Shard, which is going to tower over the borough when completed, already visible at the end of the street. Suddenly, the detective stopped in front of what looked like a church. 

Looking at the gate, John read the sign out loud, “The Old Operating Theatre,” before looking back at Sherlock. “This is marvellous! I heard about this place, are we really going to go in?” 

“Of course, and we are right in time for a demonstration of an operation in the theatre...” with a wink he added, “too bad it isn’t with a real patient!” 

Chuckling, John tried to stay serious. “Faking to amputated a patient, Isn’t a bit strange for a date? Shouldn’t we go to a movie or something?”

“Well, this is more fun!”

Entering the lobby, Sherlock purchased two tickets and they start the ascension to the first part of the visit, the garret. It was a medium size room covering a history of Victorian medicine. From drugs and herbs to terrible looking medical instruments. John was excited, as he read all the descriptions, touched whatever he was allowed to, explaining to the detective the current methods that replace them. 

“This is truly wonderful, have you seen the saws! And that guide presenting how to cure an ingrown nail by chopping off the whole toe! (ouch!) Can you believe it! This is barbaric, thank God we do not act like that anymore.” Frowning, John realized that he never asked an important and quite personal question. _ Maybe I just said that his era was barbaric! _ “Sherlock... I don’t want to pry or anything but -” 

“I am 36 years old... since 1895.” 

“Oh,” his cheeks turning red as they stopped in front of the ancestor of condoms, he joked, “that’s good then, you are only 3 years younger than me!” 

Taking his hand to keep him near him, the detective delicately kissed the man’s forehead, then whispered, “thank you, John.” As the tender moment elongated, the feeling that he wasn’t honest with the man in front of him was the only thing that stopped him to ask ‘can you stay with me tonight?’. 

The emotion of the moment was dissipated when the guide announced the live demonstration of a Victorian operation room. 

“This is going to be great, John. Come on, I want good seats!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Shard: I place my story in the same timeline that the series, so we are in 2010 when the construction of The Shard began in 2009. 
> 
> The Old Operating Theatre: This is a wonderful place: http://oldoperatingtheatre.com/


	9. There is a certain taste to it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunday is not over yet! John learns a bit more about Sherlock.

“It was brilliant, Sherlock! A wonderful idea!” They were walking out of the Old Operating Theatre, heads full of strange things for John and a horrific flashback for the vampire. The doctor was about to explain his favourite exhibit when his stomach produced the most humiliated sound possible! “Oh, sorry, I didn’t really eat lunch and –“

“No problem, it’s already planned, do not worry,” the detective responded as if food was of primary importance in his life. “We are a corner away from Borough Market, I thought that we could choose things from the different kiosks and sit outside as the sun is back and it’s not that cold.”

“Perfect! I love improvised picnics and street food!” Realising that he was looking at his companion adoringly, John policed himself.  _ But he looks delectable, his arse in these jeans… that’s killing me! And that shirt. What colour is it? Violet, burgundy? No, purple. Yes, that’s it, the purple shirt of doom.  _

“John?” Sherlock voice called, waking the doctor from his day-(wet)dreaming, “what do you want to eat?”

They were in the middle of the market, surrounded by bakeries, cheeses, fruits, fishmongers. Anything that was needed for a quality lunch. “Don’t know, something simple like a sandwich, or maybe just some nice bread, fruit and cheeses.” Spotting a pastry shop, he licked his lips without thinking, “and a nice dessert.”

Laughing, Sherlock took the man’s hand before directing him to the first shop.

Twenty minutes later, they sat in the nearby Southwark Cathedral, where they found a tranquil spot away from the Sunday crowd. Opening a small take-out box full of olives and pickles, a paper bag containing the most glorious and aromatic herbed bread and a package of cheese John dug in with enthusiasm, talking about the horrible food he ate when he was in the army. “It was disgusting! No fucking way I am eating that kind of food again! Thank God for fresh produce…” Realizing where he was, an old woman glared at his use of the F-word, John looked around them before his eyes fell upon his date.

“Sherlock… sorry about the questions but,” he gestured at the monumental walls of the cathedral with his hand, “is it okay for you to be here, is it making you uncomfortable?”

Unable to keep his annoyance in check, Sherlock rolled his eyes. “No, please, not that question. Ask about blood, sun, whatever, but not that. You are a doctor, you know it’s genetic.”

“Sorry, sorry, it was stupid.”

“Yes, it was! Because you’re an idiot.” As John opened his mouth to protest, he continued with a fond chuckle, “no, don’t be like that. Practically everyone is.” 

“Oh… everyone but you, genius!” Looking at the feast in front of him, he decided to jump on the opportunity, “and food, then? Got the feeling that the one-hour session I had in my first year of Med School is bollocks.” 

“The fake-blood provided by the NHS is everything a vampire needs to be healthy… but we can eat if we want. I know many who still have three meals a day.” He shrugged as if the idea was repulsive, “personally I have never been a big eater, so I usually eat a little in society when I don’t want to bring attention to myself.” He languorously took a  _ macaron _ , “I do love dessert and good wine.”

“The blood, the fake one, is it like the real stuff?” 

“It’s practical, one bottle every other day is usually enough and you can keep provisions at home if you have a permit,”  _ or is well connected. _ “It’s been a while since I drank real blood, it was weird at first - there is a certain taste to it – but now I can’t imagine going back to dealing with donors and everything.”

The doctor nodded, “it’s like when someone becomes vegan, I suppose, hard to go back when your eyes are open.”

“A sound comparison, John. You seem to understand more than most.”

“Not an idiot then?” Giving Sherlock another  _ macaron _ he leaned a bit towards him and stole a PG kiss before he brought forward a question that was turning in his head since he learned the vampire age. “You said that you changed in 1895, I read that it was still pretty tough at that time. Being a vampire and... liking men.”

A veil fell in Sherlock’s eyes as hurtful memories flood his mind. He nibbled on his raspberry  _ macaron _ for a while, before he murmured, “yeah, it was tough.”

“Sorry again, I -”

“No, it’s okay that you are curious. We are often secret about a lot of things so I understand that a lot of misunderstandings still happen even if my kind have been out in the open since the mid-nineteenth century.” He smirked, thinking about his brother’s implication in that.  _ He does love being all mysterious. _ “Is it okay if we speak about this another time? I, I am not in the right mood.” He returned John’s kiss but with a bit more ardour. “Today, I want to think only about lovely things!”

“Perfect for me, especially when I have such a lovely thing in front of me!” John deadpanned, wiggling his eyebrows to make the vampire laugh.

“You are horrible at this,” Sherlock laughed to John’s delight. “You would have been a poor silent movie actor!”

The doctor, unable to be mad about the blatant lack of confidence in his talent, laughed merrily, “I bet you would have been brilliant at it!” 

“I would never abase myself to do something as trivial! Shakespeare, on the other hand...”

They talked for hours, getting up to get coffee when the temperature became cooler, as the sun started to go down.

“We must leave now,” Sherlock sighed when the market boots started to close one after the other, “it’s late and it’s getting cold for you.”

_ Of course, cold is not something that bothers him! I keep forgetting! “ _ Yes, and I must get ready for tomorrow morning.”

“True, for your new job, Doctor Watson.” Touching John’s hand without realizing it, he whispered, “that means we can’t see each other tomorrow because you are going to be tired...”

“Even if I am tired, I want to see you tomorrow evening! Your presence is strangely soothing.”

“Yours too, my mind... my mind finally rests when you are near me.” After a moment, he specified with a mischievous light in his eyes, “only when I am not on a case, of course!”

“Of course!” Getting up, the doctor extended a hand that was automatically engulfed with Sherlock elegant fingers. As if it was a dance they had already practised over and over...


	10. Listen, I can’t explain it, you’ll have to trust me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day at work.

The day was going slowly, it was driving John crazy! Beside the presentation to a dozen staff members, a crash course on the informatic system they used, a coffee with the administrator of the surgery… he found the time to miss Sherlock. _ How is it possible! Tomorrow it’s going to be better, I am going to feel more useful with my first patients. And anyway, I will probably see Sherlock tonight so I don’t need to worry. _ He secretly watched the clock in the staff room and groaned silently. _ Still two hours to go… I can do that! Come on John, you invaded Afghanistan! _A blissful state of peace appeared on his face as he remembered Sherlock’s last smile yesterday, right before he left him. 

“John? Are you all right?” The doctor in chief asked, a little smile on her lips. “It’s a lot in one day, isn’t?”

“No, no, it’s not that, sorry, you were saying?” he quickly replied, not wanting to look overwhelmed.

“Nothing, something silly about the rebellious coffee machine.” She chuckled, something new in her eyes. “Oh… If you are not tired, it’s because you are thinking about something… or someone.”

John felt his cheeks turned pink, _ like a damn secondary school girl! _, and protested. “No, no… I am paying attention to everything, sorry if –“

“It’s okay John, it’s break time, you don’t have to be Doctor John H. Watson every minute of the day, you know.” She went to get two fresh cups of tea, handing one to her new colleague. “So, is it a woman? Your girlfriend?”

“No, nothing like that,” unsure about what he can actually say, Sarah seemed nice, but she was his new boss after all. But today, he has been presented to one of the other doctors who was openly with another woman. Pictures on her desks and all. Not wanting to start his first day with lies and unashamed of Sherlock, he said proudly. “I was thinking about a man I hope will want to become my boyfriend, it’s pretty recent but… I think he’s the right one for me.”

“It’s so hard to find the perfect fit! I hope you are right!”

“Yes, me too.” Thinking about his sister’s reaction to the news of the beautiful man’s particularity, he remained silent on the vampire business. _ Maybe someday, but not today. _

They drank their tea quietly until Sarah sighed while looking at the clock. “Better to go back, or the secretary is going to file a missing person report! Lucy at HR is waiting for you to complete your file, do you have any questions in the meantime?”

Curious, the doctor asked as if it was a spur of the moment question when he actually thought about it since he arrived, “yes, maybe. I’ve seen pamphlet about vampirism in the reception room, do we take care of them also or is it only to help your clients on how to deal with them?”

“John, please note that **here** vampires are first and foremost human. If they need help, we help them. Their bodies are not invincible, unlike what some people may think.” Her tone was firm as if she was daring her recruit to talk against her policy.

“No, no, I am not against the idea. It’s just that I thought that they usually go to clinics that are specifically for them…” On the contrary, he was thrilled that his new employer was that open! _ God, I am lucky. _

Sarah’s expression softened. “Good, doctors and nurses have access to seminars once a year to learn how to tend to sick or wounded vampires. If you want, I can sign you up for the next session.”

“Yes, please, it’s really interesting.” Shaking her hand, he walked to the HR office as she went back to work.

He was on his way back home, the day finally over, when he contacted Sherlock.

> I am a free man! Want to do something?

> Of course. SH
> 
> Do you have anything in mind? SH
> 
> It’s going to be hard to top yesterday, but I may have found something.
> 
> I am curious now… SH
> 
> Any ideas? 😉
> 
> 7 so far. SH
> 
> No, don’t think, you are going to spoil the surprise! lol
> 
> I will try to do so, just for you. But I won’t make a habit of it. SH
> 
> I don’t trust you! I am going to tell you the meeting point only 30 minutes before!
> 
> I’m going to my flat to change, texting you later. x

Putting back the phone in his pocket, a bit afraid of knowing if Sherlock was going to x-kiss him back or not, John rushed to the nearby Tube station.

He was about to cross the street at the intersection when a black sedan stopped in front of him. _ What the Hell, they are really thinking they are above the law! _Suddenly, the passenger door opened, and a beautiful woman motioned him to jump in the car.

The stunning woman would have tempted him a few days ago, but at the moment, she was a bit of a nuisance. “You’ve got the wrong man, miss, if you can just move your car, I am in a bit of a hurry.”

“Better to join me in the car, Doctor Watson. Listen, I can’t explain it, you’ll have to trust me,” she announced, a bit sarcastic.

_ Trust? Over my dead body! _ John turned to walk around the car when his phone rings. It was an unknown number. “Yes?”

“Doctor Watson get in the car please,” the voice was warm but authoritative, as if talking to a child.

“Who are you? You have no right to -”

“Look around you, Doctor Watson, do you see anything unusual?” Without being able to stop himself, John turned his head slowly, checking his surroundings. _ People, people are looking at me, the CCTV they are all in my direction, what is this! _The voice on the phone chuckles sinisterly. “You see, doctor, better to simply get in the car.”


	11. It’s not always like this.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little discussion...

John sat in the car grumpily, not liking the situation at all! He looked at the young woman, trying to confirm his doubt that she was a vampire.  _ She clearly wears contacts _ , which they often do as the shimmer in their eyes was one of the easiest signs.  _ Is this one of Sherlock’s enemies? A kind of welcome comity because I am befriending a vampire? Or is she a spy?  _ He checked the time on his phone, wanting to discreetly text Sherlock when he realises that the network was down.

“Sorry about that, Doctor Watson, commercial networks are blocked for the moment.” Her apologetic smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Pointing at her own Blackberry, John raised an eyebrow questionably.

“I said commercial networks. Just relax, we are going to be there in ten minutes.”

_ Okay then, definitely a spy! _ Not knowing what to do, the ex-soldier looked outside, trying to guess where they were going. The traffic was easy, a total mystery at that time of the day, and the driver was even able to keep a speed just above the limit.  _ We are not stopping; why aren’t we catching any red lights? Who are these people?  _ Looking again at the time, he grumbled, “I was supposed to be home by 6 o’clock, I am going to be late because of you … for an important meeting.”

“Don’t worry, we will get you home right after.”

“After what? How dare you kidnapping people in the midd –“

John’s rant was interrupted (impolitely, it was going to be a good one!) by the polite voice of his “hostess” as the car rolled inside an imposing structure. “This is your destination, please get out of the car doctor, I’ll be waiting to take you home.”

More intrigued than afraid, John moved out of the elegant sedan and understood at once where he was. _Battersea_. _Well, someone likes to be a tad dramatic. _A man was standing tall, leaning on an elegant umbrella. His perfect look, so clean and crisp, was a bit more than out of place in the derelict power station. _He looks like a Bond villain._ _What’s going on here?_

“Oh! Doctor Watson, so nice of you to join me for a little chat.” His already posh RP English sounding even haughtier with the light disgust his face was showing.

“Maybe you are not aware that I was in fact kidnapped?” John deadpanned, “so there is nothing nice about this.”

“Always a fighter I see, even a year after leaving…” he read something in a little notebook, “the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers. ”

“Who are you?”

“It’s true that you were heroic in Afghanistan,” the man continues, not acknowledging the doctor’s question before he delivered a condescending, “thank you for your service…. Captain.”

“Who are you,” John repeated, “what do you want from me.”

“Nearly nothing, just a question,” his opponent replies, eyes fixed on the doctor. “What are you playing at with Sherlock Holmes.”

Already aware that it was probably the cause of this impromptu meeting, John chuckled and shook his head. “This is our personal business.”  _ Bloody unbelievable! _ “If you don’t mind, I want to leave now.”

“I mind.” The cold voice stated clearly. “You are staying here until you talk to me about your… relationship with Sherlock Holmes.”

“I can only say that nothing, even a creepy guy in a Grade II building, is going to change anything about what we have.”

Smiling, the posh git turned around satisfied by the grandeur of the space, “I quite like this location, it’s not always like this… usually, it’s only an old warehouse of some sort.” He reflected on how life would be easier if he was able to stay in his office. After a second, he asked unemotionally, like an afterthought, “is it quite sudden, don’t you think? Might we expect a happy announcement by the end of the week? ”

Clasping his hands behind his back, John turned on his heel and walked in the direction of the car as the dispassionate voice resonated again in the vacant space. “You know he is a vampire, right?”

Angrily, John stopped to glare back at the horrible man. “Yes, I know! And don’t EVER use that as an insult or a way to menace me or to threaten us!” Tightening his fists, he added, “I don’t know which side you are, the vampires who are afraid to lose their secrets if someone like me dares to date one of your kinsmen or a right-wing bureaucrat who doesn’t want vampires to mix too much with us, to preserve our so-called purity.” Disgusted by both scenarios, he shouted as he walked away, “I don’t know which situation turns my stomach more. Anyway, this fucking kidnapping is over. I’m nearly late for my date.”

Gobsmacked, Mycroft Holmes nodded at Anthea who opened the door and joined John in the ride to his flat.

_ What is going on, I haven’t even tried to bribe him yet! _

After an even more awkward ride, the car stopped silently in front of John’s flat.  _ Of course, they know where I live _ . Opening the door without waiting for the polished mannequin or the chauffeur to do so, he bounced outside and closed the door forcibly. Inside his flat, he felt finally a bit calmer until he checked the clock. “I am going to be late, damn…” not knowing who to blame, exactly he frowned at the ridiculous adventure he had just had. “Damn THEM, whoever they are!” He sent a quick text to Sherlock confirming the hour and place and jumped in the shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don't remember how many versions I wrote of that first meeting lol
> 
> Not really long sorry, I am under a tight schedule with RL.


	12. What if I don’t see it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another date... only two days since they met in the pub, it’s starting to look like a habit!

Sherlock was waiting, checking his phone every other minute when John finally showed up. “So, so, sorry... the Tube,” he panted, “was MADNESS!”

“No problem, you are only ten minutes late,” he softly kissed his lips thinking about John’s x-kiss, and murmured, “I owe you one.”

“Mine was less virtuous,” the doctor murmured as he pressed another one, a lot deeper. “So,” he teased, “7 ideas?”

“No, finally I stopped at only one as we are near the British Museum.” The meeting was just outside of Russell Square station. “I walked from my place, but I diligently avoided looking around in case I found the place...”

“Good man,” laughing, he took Sherlock’s hand and walked in the direction of their first stop. “Do you mind if we go for a bite first? I rushed here and I didn’t have the time to eat.” When the vampire smiled at the notion of eating  _ again _ , John slapped him playfully, “hey! You need to take care of me and now I am hungry!”

“Anything you want then...”, the detective's eyes softened.

“I know a nice pub not far; the ambiance is relaxed and the food is really good!” With a wink he added, “and we have plenty of time for our main event.” After a moment when they walked silently, simply happy to be together, John asked, “so you must live in the centre of London if it took only half an hour to get here?” He was curious as they never shared that kind of detail, as they always parted at a central Tube station.

“Yes,” Sherlock responds noncommittally, “near Regent park.”

“Oh, nice... nice spot, really. I live in a bit of a suburb right now and I long to -”, the doctor stopped, the infuriating voice of the man he met an hour ago echoing in his mind. _Might we expect a happy announcement by the end of the week?_ He was saved by arriving at the pub. With a gallant smile, he opened the door, “after you, Sir.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

Both grinning, they quickly spotted a place at the back, far from the few office workers relaxing after their day.

After John ordered his food, and a little something sweet for Sherlock, he found the detective’s eyes scrutinizing him. “What? Did I miss a spot shaving or something?”

“No, no, even if the light in your bathroom clearly come from the left, you see, when the light is not in front of -”

“Sherlock...” John chided gently, “if not the lack of a perfect shave, what is it?”

“I was just wondering how your day was, it’s important, the first day.”

Chuckling, John nodded to the waitress who brought his beer and Sherlock’s glass of Merlot, “why don’t you just ask me?”

“What?” he looked as if the concept was foreign to him.

“Yes, ask me.” Using a deeper voice than usual, he murmured languorously, “so, John, tell me, darling, how was your first day? I hope that everyone is already besotted with you?” 

“Oh, true. I am quite new at this and…”, he stopped and fidgeted with the cutlery.

Placing his hand over Sherlock’s, John smiled reassuringly. “It was a joke, you are doing really well, do not worry.”

Beaming, the detective leaned a bit on the table and asked blushingly, “So, John, tell me, darling, how was your first day? I hope that everyone is already besotted with you? _ ” As I am already! _

Laughing out loud, his eyes full of light and so beautiful under the dimmed lighting of the pub, he started to describe his day, the people he met, the decor of his office and they talked easily about everything and nothing until all the food was consumed, including a decadent dessert.

An hour and a half later, they were back on the street. Night had already fallen, the street lamp posts creating a dreamy effect in the old streets.

Sherlock, after a few meters, blurted, “where are we going, John! Please! It’s killing me!”

“Only a few minutes… Do you have no idea? I thought that you knew London streets by heart, all of them, all the alleyways.” With a little wink, he added, “I am sad to know that your reputation –“

“No, it’s not that! I know where we are, but everything is closed at this hour… What if I don’t see it? You think so highly of -”

“It’s okay, you know, there is no wrong answer…” John murmured, trying to calm the detective.

Still searching, unable to control himself, Sherlock looked around them. “It’s only residential streets, only stately homes and private practice, I really don’t –“ He suddenly stopped, as they turned on Lincoln’s Inn Fields, “Is this… Sir John’s place? It is the only place but… it’s closed, I don’t understand.”

They stopped in front of the Soane Museum, John grinning at the thought that he outsmarted the great Sherlock Holmes. “Yes, it’s there. Do you know the place?”

“Yes, Ms Hu-, my nanny brought me here a few times when I was young, it was a marvellous place. But, it’s too late, isn’t it? It looks closed.” As the disappointment of not being able to explore the wonderful emporium inside the curious museum sank in, the door opened, and a joyful voice broke the silence of the tranquil square.

“Captain Watson! You are here!” Turning toward the lobby he called, “Katie, he’s here!” A bubbly woman appeared, adorned with an equivalent happy grin.

“Oh, doctor, I am so pleased to be able to tell you how much we are fortunate that –“

Holding his hand to stop the declaration, John cleared his voice. “I was only doing my job and the fact that Will is able to work and have a nice life is the best reward!” He tilted his head in direction of Sherlock, who was listening silently, and smiles at the young veteran, “as well the little thing I asked you.”

“It’s perfect, perfect, come in, come in, everything is ready.” Opening the door widely, Will motioned to the men to enter the museum. “As you may know, the museum is the junction of the three houses Sir John purchased to hold his collection as well as the family quarters.” Taking their coats and scarves, he placed them in a little cubicle. “I need your phones as well, gentlemen, I know that you are men of your word but it’s the rule.” Frowning a bit, but more curious than worried, Sherlock gave his phone to John who handed both devices to Will. “Thank you! Everything is in order! One more thing, don’t touch anything, watch where you put your feet because the floor is somewhat spotty in some places.” Turning in the direction of the main door, he chuckled with a little cheeky wink in the direction of his girlfriend, “and most of all, don’t do anything that we wouldn’t do!”

It was magic. The space, usually really bright to avoid any accident, was only illuminated by candelabra and old gas lamps. The effect was lovely, the warmth of the candles reflecting on the marble of the statues, on the polish wood. The bric-a-brac, an infinite source of mystery, of discovery. Looking at Sherlock, John knew immediately that it was perfect.

“Everything is as you wish, Captain?” Will questioned, knowing perfectly that all was wonderful.

“Yes, it can’t be better than this… It’s Christmas.” Sherlock murmured as the guardian gave John two flashlights in case of any trouble before closing the door behind them. 

Letting the two men inside one of the strangest places in London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hum... So far, John remained silent about his kidnapping...


	13. I never knew it could be this way.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reminiscence of a night at the museum and a chat with a friend.

_ It was the greatest date he ever had! Sherlock’s joy of having the whole place to themselves, the candles and gas lightning probably reminding him of his childhood, was exuberant and happy. He was beaming, a delight for John to watch. For hours they stole kisses, held hands and touched the other to show a detail or a quirky element. Of course, the setting itself didn’t hurt! It was a real Alibaba cavern, full of strange relics, sarcophagus, Roman and Greek art, all ensconced in a maze of rooms spread over the three-row houses that Sir John Soane connected together to create his domain. _

_ It was perfect up until they entered the pictures room.  _

_ First, intrigued by the clever way of multiplying the small room’s surface to show more pictures, Sherlock babbled excitedly about the artists and the techniques, everything was going wonderfully. He related the story behind the series of Hogarth’s pictures called An Election. Laughing at the depiction of a process that is still the same nowadays. The riot, the bribes, political party stealing votes from dead people… They laughed then were moved by the beauty of Canaletto’s view of Venice. In that little room, at candlelight, everything looked possible. The difference between them vanishing. _

_ Yes, it was perfect. _

_ Until the doctor opened a panel to reveal a series of portraits. Dropping his flashlight, the detective stepped back until he stood under the room threshold. From behind the doctor heard the gasp then a murmur amplified on the high ceiling of the small room. Nothing that John said was able to calm him as he turned on his heel – thank God that great coat of his was in the locker room – and rushed to the exit. Without explanation. _

John was still lost in his mind, trying to understand what happened, when a knock on the table woke him up from his daydreaming.

“Hey mate… I know that face even if I have never seen it on yours!” Stamford said, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, “you looked far far away, relaxed and happy, anxious but elated, have you seen that man again?” He quickly sat in front of him and started checking the menu.

It was Tuesday, a day after that wonderful night at the Sloane. John was annoyed a moment for the interruption of the little minute-by-minute playback he was doing in his head but quickly overcame it at the thrill of being able to talk about Sherlock to someone. “Yes! Oh, Mike, I don’t know what to do. I know it was only a dumb bet but –“

“Dumb! Don’t say that to your mate Murray, it’s your honour and tickets for the finals!” Stamford joked knowing at John’s tone that for his old friend it was already something serious.

Chuckling, John shook his head as to say ‘I don’t believe this’. He sighed, turning his gaze on the crowded street through the café big window. “I never knew it could be this way.”

“This way?”

“So quick, so brutal, so extraordinary.”

“John Watson, are you in love?” Mike teased, “you know, the bet was for the other way around?”

“Stop it, you wanker.”  _ And I seriously hope that it worked the other way around also…  _ “There is one thing though,” John said, suddenly calm. “The man, Sherlock, he, he –“

“He’s a vampire,” Stamford murmured on a conspiracy tone before shrugging his shoulders as to say ‘so what?’ Flipping through the menu, he frowns, not particularly happy about the selection.

“YOU KNEW!”

“Of course,” not wanting to say that he knew Sherlock, he gave another explanation. “I know how to spot them - my brother married one..” He went back to looking over the menu, “so, what are you eating?”

“Sod the food,” John suddenly had to work hard not to punch his smug smile from his face. “And you thought what? We are going to have some fun with good old Watson? It’s going to be funny when the idiot is going to realize –“

“Nope.” Stamford closed the menu seriously, “I thought that it was a perfect match.”

John was about to protest when he received a text.

> Sorry. SH
> 
> To be clear, sorry about yesterday. SH
> 
> Having left like that without explanation after you organized a superb evening. SH

With an apologetic glance at Stamford, he replied immediately.

> It’s okay, I was just worried about you..
> 
> Can you tell me what happened?
> 
> Maybe later. SH
> 
> I don’t know. SH
> 
> Is it me? Have I done something?
> 
> No, you were perfect, as usual. SH
> 
> It’s me, something that. Something that I don’t know how to talk about. SH
> 
> I’ll be there when you are ready.
> 
> You are probably at work, I am going to let you do your things. SH
> 
> Sorry again, for my erratic actions. SH
> 
> No problem, I just want you to be all right and to know that you can talk to me.
> 
> Whenever you are ready.
> 
> Thank you. SH
> 
> Very much. Hope to see you soon. SH

The doctor was about to reply ‘tonight?’ but he simply wrote a generic ‘me too’. As the waitress arrived with their lunch, they started to eat, talking about friends they had in common and local events. Everything except sexy and mysterious vampire and that stupid bet.

Sherlock closed his phone, still feeling strange at the idea that he contacted the doctor to apologise.  _ He is really forgiving, and the previous evening had been truly extraordinary! The most brilliant date he could have come up with, until… until I spoiled everything.  _ He was lost in memories he thought long forgotten, barely looking at the slide under his microscope, when Molly entered the lab. 

“Oh! Sherlock, how are you? We haven’t spoken since that second date, what happened?” She chuckled knowingly.

“We went out.” The detective said, happy that his unnatural complexion wasn’t showing the blush which would have been there otherwise.

“Okay…” Molly smirked before pressing, “and?”

“And I initiated a date the day after.”

“Andddddd?”

“He initiated a date yesterday.”

“Wow. Really good… He’s really falling hard isn’t?” She sat on the stool next to Sherlock and pushed him playfully, “you see! I was right!”

“I am on my best behaviour 97% of the time! He wouldn’t want to see me if I was acting… like you are when you drop the act or like me if I was allowing myself to be my usual self.”

“Don’t say that you are a marvellous person.” Molly grinned, “you just like murders a bit too much, that’s all.”

“It’s not that I like that people are dying, I just like to solve the puzzle. I can’t be the only person in the world who gets bored. ”

“When are you going to try to push him away?” the pathologist asked. She wanted her friend to find someone but not if he needed to act differently.  _ Like me, I want a boyfriend who’s going to like my cat, like me and won’t be disgusted by my job, is it too much to ask? _

“The deal was to have him fall for me first, I have no idea if he really liked me or if he’s just curious. If I am not fixed by Friday, I will drop everything.”

As Molly opened his mouth to protest, Sherlock phone pinged.

“It’s Lestrade, a double homicide in Greenwich, got to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happened at the museum to spook Sherlock?


	14. I can’t come back.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breaking and entering.

“I’m going to check on them, I am sure that it’s the gang we are looking for!” Sherlock was arguing with Lestrade for more than fifteen minutes and was starting to be a bit… exasperated by the situation. “I don’t need anyone from your lot, don’t worry I won’t use your…” he paused before he placed a sardonic smile on his face as Donovan walked nearby, “exceptional resources.”

The air quotes around the words clearly audible, Sally snapped, “hey, freak, be careful what you’re saying!”

“Donovan, go help Anderson!” The DI yelled before it turned ugly.

“Yes, he surely needs help with scrubbing his floor, you missed a spot last night…” Sherlock murmured innocently.

“You don’t help at all, you are aware of it Sherlock, with your superior intellect and all?” The little war between the vampire, Donovan and Anderson was getting old. The day has been horrible, the crime scene truly gruesome, and he wasn’t in shape to deal with more madness. The vampire had solved it, they were able to bring down the suspect list to only one, but it was a powerful member of a very violent gang. “And to get back to our subject, I don’t want you near that place. The man is crazy, you can’t go there alone. I am waiting for the warrant and the SWAT team.”

“But –“

“If you do, I won’t contact you for a month.”

“Graham, this is –“

Exasperated, Greg shouted “TWO months!” before going back to his office.

_ _

Walking out of the unit, the consultant rushed to the lift, still angry at Lestrade.  _ I am not a child, this is ridiculous! ‘you can’t go there alone’ Why not? It’s only for reconnaissance, nothing dangerous. Who is he to tell me what I can’t do! Anyway, is he afraid that what? That they will try to kill me?  _ He was pushing the ‘down’ button repeatedly, laughing silently at the stupidity of all this, when suddenly he found the solution to his dilemma. Fishing for his phone in the enormous pocket of his coat, he opened the text app.

> Anything on tonight? SH
> 
> No, nothing! You want to do something?
> 
> Can you join me at Lloyd’s as soon as possible? SH
> 
> Their office on Leadenhall? Yes, of course. I was on my way home, I’m going to change direction and meet you there.
> 
> Yes, that monstrosity with the pipes. Perfect. SH

Satisfied with the outcome of the discussion and by the beauty of the loophole he had found, Sherlock dashed into the street and hailed a cab.

Fifteen minutes later Sherlock arrived at the distinctive building and looked at his left, knowing that John was probably going to arrive from Bank Station. He saw him only a moment later, walking purposefully on the sidewalk. It was already past six and the businesses were somewhat quieter than just an hour before. Watching the doctor, beautiful as usual with a gleam of someone excited by the expectation of a great evening.  _ Thank God, he is not acting weird because of yesterday! Now is not the time, but maybe later I could tell him about… about everything. Because I can’t come back from this. I can’t have him leave my life _ . The mere idea was terrifying. “John! Great of you to be here, I am… I am really… that’s good of you.” Uncustomarily nervous, Sherlock extended his hand. 

Frowning at the unusual, how is it possible that we already have habits, the doctor pulled on the hand and kissed the detective.  _ _ “Hi.”

Nervous, without really knowing why, Sherlock simply repeated, “hi.”

“What are we going to do, do you have a plan?” The doctor asked, looking around for something that may have caught the detective’s attention. “It’s true that it’s a horrible building by the way.”

“Yes, the former one was far superior in style. Breaking and entering.”

“What?” John asked, wondering if he heard right.

“You asked what my plan was,” Sherlock responded showing the way. “But not at Lloyd’s, I am not that crazy, it’s in Leadenhall Market.”

“Where they filmed Harry Potter? Great!”

The vampire groaned at John’s exclamation.  _ Harry Potter, that damn wizard! Now kids think that vampires are evil and on that bad wizard’s side even if we are not in the damn books!  _ “This morning, two men were found dead in Greenwich. It was clean but something in the method screamed of the Gibson gang. I heard from one of my contacts that their weekly meeting was at a little restaurant in Leadenhall Market. I am sure that they are planning something big and that they killed the men because they were on the way… Scotland Yard won’t do anything, arguing that we have no proof! I  **know** it, I don’t need proof!”

Chuckling at the rightful indignation of the man he was dangerously on the verge of falling irremediably in love with, John demanded, “okay but, seriously, what are we going to do?”

Sherlock stopped in front of a discrete back door and took a small pouch from his coat pocket. “Told you, breaking and entering.”

“SHERLOCK!” John murmured loudly – if it’s possible! – “you are crazy! No way we are –“ but his argument fell flat as the detective’s hand pulled him inside before closing the door, placing a finger on his lips.

“Quiet, the security system is as old as the building, but they are not deaf.” 

“We are so talking about this later!”

“Come…” they walked silently through a service corridor that connected the business in that segment of the market until they arrived in front of the pub delivery door. Looking around carefully, his night vision better than John’s, Sherlock couldn’t spot any cameras. Using his tools, he worked until he unlocked the door. Inside, as it was marginally brighter, he took John’s hand in his. Slowly they slipped in a small service room at the back, the heavy door shutting down all the noises coming from the pub.

“And now?”

“Now we wait.”

John was fuming! And excited. And turned on. And angry.  _ God, is this my life now?  _ “Is this what you do? It’s not like publicly running after someone with the police behind us, we entered somewhere without a warrant!”

“Yes, of course, this is what I do!” He was clearly not aware of the problem. “Lestrade didn’t want to.”

His small pout was too much for John who forgot his ire temporarily and started chuckling as silently as possible. “You, Sherlock Holmes, are crazy.”  _ And I love you.  _ The vision of the skilled man, playing with his little instruments to open the doors, brought another fit of laughter.

“What’s so funny?”

“Just that I was thinking… Oh God, don’t be mad… I was thinking of you turning into a bat to fly through a small window to open the door from the interior! Would be easier!”

“JOHN! Stop laughing immediately!” He was trying to stay serious as the situation wasn’t funny, in the least.  _ a bat! Pfff! _ “Stop, you can’t giggle, we are currently committing a crime!”

“Sorry, sorry…” Placing a hand on Sherlock’s back, he pulled the tall man toward him and kissed his lips slowly. “Sorry, that was silly.”

The kisses remained soft and delicate, the ideas that they could be discovered at any time forced them to stay alert, but they were as powerful if not more as the hottest French kisses. The intimacy of it, so new for the century old vampire, moved him deeply.

Wanting to be as open as possible, Sherlock murmured, “I’m sorry, really sorry for yesterday.”

“What happened? I know it’s still really new, but I’ve never seen you that unsettled…” Thinking about the visit to Soane's museum, he tried to mentally survey the Pictures room, everything was going fine until… “is it one of the portraits?”

“Yes,” Sherlock was shaking, holding to John as if his own life was in jeopardy, “it was one of the portraits.”

“If you want, you can tell me, “the doctor asked, sympathetically, “who was it?”

“It was Victor Trevor… The vampire who sired me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breaking and entering in their ❤❤❤❤
> 
> And Victor!


	15. That’s what I’m talking about!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they are waiting in a small stock room, Sherlock talked a bit about his life before…

John remained silent, holding Sherlock tighter as if to protect him from the painful memory. Wondering if it was better to talk about it or not… Knowing that the decision wasn’t his to make. Thankfully, the detective sighed and started to talk.

“I met him at a ball, I was 36 years old… still a bachelor to my family’s despair.” He chuckled sadly, “they tried so hard, sending me to all the balls and assemblies, asking friends with girls to come home for tea when I was home from Oxford.” Shaking his head, he murmured, kissing John’s blond hair, “they knew that my… allegiance lay elsewhere but they hoped that I would do the  _ right _ thing.”

“You were the only child?”

“No, I’ve got an older brother. He was married to a lovely woman, really gentle and delicate. Sadly, she died in childbirth… It was really distressing at that time. Now it is like an echo of someone else’s life, isn’t it weird?” He closed his eyes, thinking about the delicate lady that his brother loved so much, first by obligation then for real. “My brother wasn’t the same after… He started to work all the time, not for recognition – his role was always a bit out of the public eye – and never remarried. Therefore, my parents were desperate for me to settle with a nice woman.”

“This is why you were at… that ball?” The doctor asked as he stroked the vampire’s back.

“It was at the 1895 State ball. Buckingham Palace sparkling from thousand of candles, hothouse flowers everywhere, can you imagine me at such an event?” John was about to reply that ‘yes, that his elegant frame would have fit perfectly,’ when the detective continued. “Too much, I think, is the best way to express my feelings. Too many people, too many gilded mirrors and candelabras and dishes and false laughter… The sensory input was overwhelming. I was like the ugly duckling in the middle of fake swans.”

“Don’t say that I am certain that it was brilliant,” the doctor said, playfully, to relax the other man, “I would have loved to see you in evening wear.”

“Of course, the officers in full regalia were a treat for the eyes…” Sherlock chuckled, thinking about how much he would be willing to pay to see John in his uniform.

“Still got mine, if you want...” The doctor murmured in his ear, “if we get out of this place alive of course.”

“We are only waiting for the pub to close, it shouldn’t be that long, then I will try to catch them talking about their plans. I do not intend for any of us to die today.” Sherlock deadpanned. “And, yes, I would love to see you in your uniform, fatigues or dress, and to help you out of it if I may say...”

Having a bit of difficulty to remain unaffected by the deep voice of his date, John cleared his throat and pressed, “he was one of the officers?”

“Yes, from the Royal Regiment of Artillery of something of the sort. He was… magnificent.” His eyes were filled with pain at the memory of that night when everything tumbled into darkness. “My poor mother,” his voice was barely audible, “she brought me there thinking that one of the insipid debutantes would catch my attention or, as she said later, that a widow or someone with more experience, would be amenable to… hide my particularity.”

John suddenly realised, “1895, it was…” 

“Yes, Wilde’s scandal.”

“Poor man, poor darling,” the endearing term flew out of his lips without thinking, “were you in peril of any sort?”

“No, not until that night…” He hugged the smaller man as if looking for the courage to go further, “Victor was magnificent and decided that he wanted me.”

“The vampires weren’t in the open at that time, correct? It was still a secret? He wanted to kill you, that’s horrible!”

“No, no, worse in a sense, he wanted me as his… companion.” He stopped, listening to the noise of the pub closing, the shouts of the staff, the clatter of the dishes and glasses.  _ It won’t be long. _ “I didn’t know, I never realized… I thought he loved me, we became friends quickly, he was listening to my rambling about cases, following me whenever he could to chase criminals. I was in love, I was lost…”

“What happened when you saw him for what he was?”

“It was a time when a vampire was a lustful killer, the idea of feeding without killing was unheard of! You realized what I’m talking about, I was… I became… THAT.”

He looked so disgusted at the idea, which John knew must have been his life when he was turned, that a wave of pity for the lost man he was at the time. “I am so sorry that you had to deal with that, to live with secrets, the gilt…”

“He didn’t tell me, of course, but one night we were… we were together when suddenly he attacked me. I tried to fight but he was so strong.” A sob nearly escaped him, but he pushed it away, not wanting John to become even more distressed at his pathetic story. “He said… he said that if I didn’t cooperate, he was going to send the letters that we had exchanged to the press. I still don’t understand how I could have been so stupid! Waxing poetic in love letters to another man… when… when better men were sent to prison for less than that.”

“You were in love –“

“I was in my mid-thirties; I should have known better! It was a risk to my family, would have meant shame on my brother who suffered enough already… I complied to keep him silent. I remained still as he bit me.”

“But it didn’t work as he wished?” the doctor guessed, knowing that such a bargain never ends well.

“He wanted me above all, wanted me to be happy with him, wanted a companion… He thought that once I turned, the loneliness would push me into his arms for good.” Ashamed, Sherlock stepped back from John’s hold and turned his gaze to the distressed floor. “I became distant, afraid that my family found what happened, disgusted by Victor’s presence… Feeding… Feeding was horrible.” Tears were falling openly now as the detective finally let go, “the first time it was someone that he brought me, a sailor, fairly intoxicated with rum. I was so hungry, that I didn’t think and rushed over the poor man.” Stepping away from John who tried to comfort him, he shook his head, “no, I don’t deserve any pity… No, not for that.”

“Sherlock, you weren’t yourself –“

Not acknowledging John’s interruption, the vampire continued as if he was unable to stop the flow of confession now that the valve closed for so long were open. “Victor’s eyes full of satisfaction at his victory over me were his downfall. Using the strength that newly contaminated vampires possess, I attacked him and was at last able to kill him. For good. This is why… when I saw his portrait…” Delicately, the doctor placed a hand on the tall man’s arm, trying to give him all the strength and love he was able in the simple gesture. Drying his eyes with his coat sleeve, Sherlock laughed sadly. “Tears, I don’t remember the last time… Look what you are doing to me, John Watson,” he laughed fondly, “I knew you were trouble.”

John was about to protest when someone knocked at the delivery door. Silently, they both walked to the stockroom door and pressed their ears against it.  _ The rest of the story will have to wait…  _ It was the criminals, they were laughing and talking about the event of the morning and joking with the owner of the establishment as they took their places in the pub main room. Sparkles in his eyes that he was going to have all the proof he needed, Sherlock gave John’s cheek a little happy kiss and opened the door slightly to be able to spy on was going on in the main room.  _ This is crazy, he really gets off on this! But, if I am honest, he told me breaking and entering and I followed… _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Sherlock :-(


	16. Listen. No, really listen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock’s exhilaration don’t last...

“I always knew that one day, Sherlock, you were going to cross the line!” Lestrade’s acerbic tone was a sign that this was the day and moment. “I told you to wait for the paperwork, to wait for us!”

“You told me, textually, not to go there alone.”

“The evidence you found isn’t legal anyway, so what was the point of you risking your life!” The older man fumed.

“Being a show-off, that’s all, as usual -” Donovan muttered before being cut off by Lestrade's rant.

“You disobeyed me, again!” He passed his hand through his grey hair one more time in exasperation. 

“I wasn’t alone, we weren’t in any danger and -”

“Dragging along your boyfriend is not what -”

“Boyfriends! Really?” Donovan shout, laughing impolitely. “YOU, you have a boyfriend?”

“He is not my boyfriend, not that it is your business, but... a friend.” The detective looked in John’s direction, who was waiting outside of the meeting room, pleased that he wasn’t a witness to the officer’s reaction. 

“A FRIEND, that’s even worse in a way...”

The last remnants of the vampire’s nineteenth-century gentlemanly upbringing suddenly flew out the window. “Shut up Donovan.” 

“Now, that’s enough! Both of you!” Turning to Sherlock, Lestrade shouted, “you go home and I don’t want to hear a single word from or about you for 48 hours!”

“What! You can’t -”

“Listen. No. Really listen.” He enunciated as clearly as possible as if talking to a child, “House. Arrest. 48. Hours. Don’t even try to leave Baker Street.” The DI was oozing with satisfaction as he pointed to the door. “Now, out of my office!”

Sherlock closed the door so loudly that the partition wall shook,  _ house arrest! What I am, a teenager!  _ His temper instantly mellowed at the sight of John. He was talking with an older officer, patiently, as the woman shared pictures of her grandkids. Laughing at the insipid stories she was probably telling him. At a sudden pang of jealousy at the idea that the doctor was laughing with someone else, which was ridiculous of course, Sherlock shouted coldly, “John! It’s okay we can go.”

“Oops, better for me to follow, Gladys!” The doctor jokes, a contrite smile on his lips, “It was nice talking with you, bye!” Once he reached Sherlock he muttered, “I am not a dog, you know.”

“I know,” disturbed at the idea of not seeing the man for forty-eight hours, he apologized. “Sorry, it’s Lestrade! He was insufferable with his questions and accusations!”

“I told you, we should have waited for his confirmation,” the doctor murmured, shaking his head. “What else? It’s probably not the first time he chided you about something like that.”

“I can’t leave my place for the next two days... that means that...” he turned his face away, suddenly shy.

“That, what?” John asked, with a crooked grin, perfectly knowing what was coming.

“We won’t be able to see each other tomorrow night.”

“I’ll come to your place for dinner after work, that’s all! We’ll order something.”

“You,” Sherlock stopped walking and looked at John in something close to awe, “you want to come to my flat?”

“Of course, I want. Should I be afraid of something?” His warm chuckles instantly become the most beautiful sound Sherlock has ever heard, “any bats, coffins or a reserve of dead people, I should know about?”

The detective was trying to find a way to explain the few naturalized bats as well as the skull on the mantle when John urgently placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Sherlock!” he pointed in the direction of the street, “that car... that car is the same that kidnapped me yesterday.”

Knowing immediately whose car it was, the vampire rolled his eyes, “don’t worry, I know who it is. You should have told me. Go home, it’s late and you are working tomorrow morning. I will send you my address later.” After a quick peck on his lips, he walked in the direction of his brother’s black sedan.

“Over my dead-” John censored himself, “no way you are talking to that lunatic alone!”

It was too late to protest; Mycroft was getting out of the car.

The man looked as arrogant and as perfectly pristine as the day before, without acknowledging John’s presence, he stood in front of his younger brother. “Sherlock, I told you a thousand times that it was ridiculous to put yourself in danger like that.”

“I wasn’t in danger, Lestrade is being dramatic about everything, as usual!” The detective was mortified, being chastised by the DI was one thing, but being dressed down by Mycroft in front of John was unbearable!

“You haven’t survived all the rough patches of the last centuries, including two world wars to be killed by a gang of idiots!” He was so angry that he nearly lost his cold composure.

John, not understanding what was going on, interrupted, “you know each other?” Both vampires tilted their head as if to say ‘really, John?’ “and you only want to protect his interests?”

“Of course,” Mycroft retorted as if to say that it was the only reason why he walked out of his comfortable office to go to Battersea. “I worry about him, constantly.”

“I am not a child!” Sherlock shouted, “not since the eighteen-fifties!”

“I beg to differ,” the government man calmly replied to the preposterous claim, “I told you that I have accepted that you want to work with the police instead of me, but stop risking your life for stupid reasons!”

“It wasn’t a risky situation and not a stupid reason! It was to catch a criminal syndicate!”

Out of nowhere, John muttered, “it was to prove that you were right.”

“I think I like this one finally, brother mine.” With a big smile, Mycroft nodded and turned to walk back to his car, letting Sherlock to deal with a flabbergasted John.

“He’s your BROTHER!?”


	17. There is just something about him.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning in 221b...

“Sherlock,” the voice of I-am-not-your-nanny-anymore-but-I-still-love-your-dearly resonated in the flat, “where are you?”

“In the bathroom,” the detective shouted, as he arranged his curls meticulously.  _ This is stupid, nobody cares about my stupid curls! _

“Are you decent?”

Muttering something about how she must do something about upgrading her Victorian standard, he quickly grabbed his robe to cover his naked torso, “yes, I am.”

“I brought you your favourite, A-negative,” she smiled as she placed delicately a tray on the kitchen table slash makeshift lab. “And tea, and scones, because we are not savages.” 

With a quick kiss on the old and delicate skin of her cheek, the detective took a scone and smelled it in a childish way, before giving her a grin.  _ I’ll drink later _ . “Thank you Hudders, it smells wonderful as always.”

She patted his shoulder and went about trying to sort the mess in the kitchen. “I don’t know why I tried to do something with the flat, the mess you made...”

Sherlock looked around evaluating the state of the main room.  _ Oh God, it is true, and John is a doctor, an army doctor, he is probably used to pristine space!  _ “Hudders, we need to do a big clean up!”

Gobsmacked at words she never thought she’d be hearing from that mouth; Ms Hudson quickly recover. “Oh... is this for a nice man? Tell me is it for that beautiful inspector of yours? Or someone new?”

“My beautiful -” he laughed as he understood her insinuation, “you mean Lestrade? No, no, of course not. It’s for John.”

“John?” Ms Hudson asked, forgetting about tidying up. “Tell me my dear boy, who’s John?”

Knowing everything about the old lady’s matchmaking habit, he responded dismissively, “Watson. John Watson.” As her gaze keep following him around the room, he stuttered nervously, “he’s a doctor who has helped me with cases.” As her mouth rounded in a perfect ‘oh’ at the mention of a doctor, he added quickly, trying to downgrade her enthusiasm, “a war veteran, a wounded pensioner in fact.” He knew that John would be (delightfully) angry at the presentation, but it was a case of  _ force majeure _ ! “And above all, a human, so you know.”

“Pfff... that doesn’t matter anymore! We are in the 21 st century after all! Mixed couples can be together, Mrs Turner next door's got married ones! I’ve seen the other night on BBC a documentary about how a woman legally  _ turned _ to be with her husband... maybe one day you are going to find -.” 

“Yes, yes, I know, but anyway, this is nothing of the sort. Doctor Watson is just a partner.” 

Thinking that someone would choose become like him one day out of love was the craziest idea, even if the idea of having John with him for eternity was strangely appealing.  _ Having to present a psychological evaluation, talking in front of a committee composed of humans and vampires, the process is truly not romantic!  _ He chuckled at his own folly.  _ There is just something about him...  _ He truly hates how vampires were controlled and marked as if they were animals in a zoo!  _ It was easier a century ago if someone that wanted to become vampire had only to ask!  _ Or, in the case of his old nanny, cried and sob until a poor lady vampire took pity on her. He shook his head, listening as the old woman hummed while tidying a bit.  _ Wanting to stay with me to take care of me, isn’t that ridiculous! I was already a grown man! _

“Sherlock, do you need a good meal for your friend? Is he going to be here for lunch or dinner?”

“Dinner, but don’t do anything we are going to get take-out and -”

“Tut, tut, not under my watch! I am going to make a nice roast, and potatoes!” 

Unable to stop her, Sherlock watched motionless as she prattled about nice tablecloth, wine and candles.  _ What? Candles!  _ “No, no need! I have perfectly good electricity, I don’t need candles!”

“Of course my lovely you need candles,” she patted his cheek as if he were still a child, “ it’s more romantic! Clean up your bedroom, young man, I need to go do the shopping!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small one... Went to the movies last night to see Midsummer's Night Dream with Gwendoline Christie and it was marvellous! But I am a little late, sorry!


	18. Secrets? I love secrets.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An evening in 221b… (part 1)

Sherlock walked around, mostly satisfied. The flat was at its cleanest, a good meal was ready and waiting, a good bottle of wine...  _ Oh! Music!  _ Rushing to his stereo, he located a generic adult-contemporary station.  _ Yes, perfect! I wonder if he loved violin… _ He concentrated, trying to remember if they talked about music when his phone pinged. Oh! It’s John! ‘ _ On my way, going to be there in 30 minutes’ _ . With trembling hands, he replied that it was perfect.  _ He is perfect, oh my God, this is ridiculous! He’s only a visitor. _ Looking at himself in the mirror above the fireplace he frowned at his unusually frazzled eyes. _ What is wrong with my eyes!  _ The supernatural edge was normal, but they were more dilated than usual.

Afraid that something was wrong he screamed, “Hudders!”

“What is it?” The old lady asked as soon as she entered the room, “is something the matter?”  _ The rosemary in the potatoes is smelling wonderful, nothing looks amiss… _

“My eyes!”

Stepping next to the man, she looked carefully at his eyes. “They are beautiful as usual, they have always been so pretty, with all the colour… You were the most beautiful toddler, with those eyes and the curls.” She sighed, “it’s nearly unfair for the others that you’ve got the vampire’s shimmer as well.”

“No, not that, my PUPILS! Hudders,” he muttered, full of worries, “they are wide as if I were in the dark. I don’t understand, what’s happening!”

Patting his hand softly, the old lady chuckled and singsong, “oh, being young and in love!”

Being silly in one’s head may be all right for Sherlock but hearing the woman who used to  _ bathe _ you saying things like that was… was ludicrous! “I am not in love! Don’t say things like that, you are going to think it’s true… you... you are mad!”

“Darling boy, you know it’s true.”

“No! It’s not!” Suddenly afraid, he braced himself and blustered. “Do you want to know a secret?”

“Secrets,” Ms Hudson murmured, “Oh, I love secrets!”

“It’s all a trick, I don’t even like him!” Turning on his heel, Sherlock theatrically beelined for his room to get dressed.  _ And he is going to dislike me like everyone as soon as I am going to reveal my true self! _

Laughing loudly now and not believing a word of what her ward said, his old nanny shouted, “the dark blue shirt is the nicest!” before closing the door.  _ Oh, I do wish he would find someone… he can’t be alone with his brother and me for the rest of his life, he’s going to turn mad with his funny mind of his! Even if we love him dearly. _

She walked down the stairs slowly, remembering when they took possession of their new home. It was freshly built at that time. It was such a nice opportunity for the old servant! Staying in her own flat in a beautiful London borough with the sole occupation of taking care of her favourite pupils. It wasn’t a small task, with the experiments, the cases, the clients and Sherlock volatile character! But she wouldn’t want any other life! Officially his landlady, but most of all a steadying presence and a friend, she remembered as if it was yesterday, the night when everything changed. The night when she discovered him, crying with a stray dog on his lap.  _ And the blood… Poor Sherlock, he was so sad, so afraid. How was he able to hide his condition from us for weeks, staying in the flat, refusing to see us! Thank God his brother reacted quickly!  _

Bringing his younger brother to a family lodge in Scotland for weeks, until he found an equilibrium, a way to survive from animal blood to keep the amount of human blood to a minimum. Thankfully, Sherlock’s occupation was already taking care to provide for an infinite supply of criminals. A few months later, when the vampires’ world started to emerge into the public eye, Mycroft decided that the best way to protect his little brother was to become the most powerful vampire of the realm. Not wanting to put that burden on Sherlock, he found a way to contact the chief of the London coven and quickly become a member.

_ To think that I had to find someone myself because Sherlock and Mycroft refused to do it! Silly boys, as if they were able to be alone!  _ Remembering with disgust the years when the Holmes brothers supplied her with fresh blood, she nonetheless regrets nothing! Leaving him alone, especially after the death of Mrs Holmes wasn’t an option.  _ Poor Master Mycroft, condemning himself to this life to be sure that his brother won’t miss anything.  _ Thinking about how things evolved in the last decades, she must admit that he does a good job!  _ And now, if my Sherlock can find a nice man! _

She was about to enter her flat when someone knocked. Opening the door, she smiled at the beautiful man in front of her. _The good stature of an officer!_ _A wounded veteran, pfff!_ “Oh, good evening, you must be Sherlock’s John!”

“Ms Hudson, please do shut up! JOHN! I’m upstairs!” The detective waited for a second, “and he’s not MY John, what a stupid grammatical error!”

“Excuse him, Ms Hudson, isn’t it?” the doctor apologized, “I think he’s a bit unhappy about being all cooped up for two days.”

She waved her hand dismissively, “it’s just Sherlock, no need to apologize for him when he’s his usual self!”

Frowning at her comment, as Sherlock had always been considerate as far as he was concerned, he walked up the stairs with a strange feeling of going back home.


	19. Yes, I admit it, you were right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An evening in 221b…

Sherlock was standing at the threshold of his flat, not knowing what to do with himself. The aroma of the dinner in his usually unused oven was slightly nauseous, the blood he drank earlier at Ms Hudson’s insistence slushing at the bottom of his stomach.  _ This is not a good idea. This is not a good idea. This is not a good idea. This is not a – _

“Hello.”

Focussing his eyes on a smiling John, Sherlock responded with a trembling, “hello.”

“May I come in? Do you need to, I don’t know… formally ask me to enter your home?” the little smirk proving that he knew what he was saying was bullshit.

“I believe it’s generally the other way around, depending on which work of fiction you are referring to.” Opening the door widely, he waved his hand melodramatically, “please come in Doctor Watson as I cannot go out!”

Laughing, John entered and gave him the bottle of wine he brought. “A Merlot, you liked it the other night so…” He turned in the direction of the kitchen where wonderful smells were coming from, “you cooked?”

“No, I could if I wanted because it’s only chemistry but…” he shuddered at the waste of energy, “it was Ms Hudson. I said we would call out for something, but she was adamant that a homemade meal was better.”

“I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”

He raised his shoulders, “she likes to cook… my network is the best fed homeless in London.”

“Homeless?”

“Yes, I use a dozen or so of bright homeless people to check things for me when needed. A few vampires but mostly... peoples.” He took out two wine glasses, and asked, “do you want a glass of wine to relax before your meal?”

“Yes, thank you!” Letting his host deal with the bottle, he looked around the flat. Thrilled at the idea of learning more about the curious man he was definitely falling in love with, he tried to get a glimpse of everything. The books, vinyl albums and CDs, the music sheet stand, the cases note in a neat pile. It was a curious mix of Georgian architecture and mid-century modern furniture. Except for the fact that books seem to have been published in an array of centuries, nothing screamed that the man living here had been around for more than a century. It was strangely, not strange at all.

Sherlock’s solicitous voice brought John out of his musing as he handed him his wine. “Here you go, so have you found my coffin yet?”

“I don't want to be presumptuous, but I am not in your bedroom… yet.” At the detective’s sudden air of panic, John softly presses a hand in the small of his back. “Hey… it was a joke; I know your coffin is in the cellar.”

Kissing the tempting lips in front of him without even thinking about it, the vampire laughed, “I will never put it there, the moulds are out of control!” Suddenly, he remembered his duty and asked, “are you hungry?”

“Yes, do you need help with anything?” Eyeing the candles on the perfectly dressed table, he chuckled, “candles? Are you planning on woo me, Mister Holmes?”

“It’s Ms Hudson, not me!”  _ How could I have not seen her! The little… Argh!  _ “I can remove them –“ He was already to the table to take away the golden candle holders when John placed his hands over his.

“No, it’s okay… I mean, it’s romantic don’t you think?”

“Wha-“ _ Oh… Ooooh… _ “Yes.”

After the ice was broken, the strangeness of having someone in his flat other than a client or Lestrade slowly left him. The intimate setting was soothing in a way that he didn’t know he could feel with someone else in his home, domestic almost. They talked while John enjoyed his meal, Sherlock only stealing a few morsels to taste. When John declared that he wasn’t able to eat a bit more, he carried his plate to the sink and began to do the dishes.

“Hudders will do it tomorrow…” the detective pouted, h is idea completely derailed as the doctor rolled up his sleeves.

“Hudders? That’s a cute nickname. Have you lived here for a long time?”  _ If she’s been here since her twenties, it’s a fifty-year friendship! _

Too amazed by the muscles playing under the golden skin, Sherlock muttered without thinking. “Since I left home. She’s with me since I was a child. Her name was a bit hard to say, so it was first Nanny and when I was older Hudders. When I became too old for a nanny, she stayed with us and helped with the management of the manor. She was talking about retiring when I left home for London, but my parents asked her if she was willing to take care of me a bit more… So we moved here, to Baker Street.”

Dropping the plate he held in his hand, John stuttered, “she’s, she’s also a… like you.” He didn’t know why he asked, he wasn’t hiding anything, the only option was that the old sweet lady that opened the door for him was a vampire as well.

“That or she takes really good vitamins, John,” the detective deadpanned, “please do keep up.”

Taking the opportunity, the doctor started to wash the dishes and asked, “and that – if you don’t mind me to say – creepy man is your brother? So… also a…”

“Yes, and this is the extent of my vampire family if you wanted to know.”

“Sorry, I do not want to pry, it’s just that all this is new and…” he stuttered until he saw Sherlock’s benevolent smile. “Oh, stop this!” Changing the subject he tilted his head in the direction of the living room. “I saw the music stand, are you a musician?”

“Yes,” Sherlock admitted shyly. “Violin. Not half-bad… I think.”

“Would you play for me while I finish this? Anything you like.”

“Really… hum… okay.” Not used to playing in front of people and knowing that his violin was a cause of discord with the various neighbours, he walked to his bedroom to get the instrument. Closing the door tightly, as his room was in an unusual mess with all his weirdest things temporarily hiding in it, he walked to the music stand and choose a partition. He started with something that everyone loved, Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, then – when John didn’t scream at him - followed with a variety of his favourites.

He was in the middle of Bartok’s Violin Sonata when John hugged him from behind. “Yes, I admit it, you were right… almost.”

Barely messing his tempo, Sherlock replied with a chuckle, “I am often right, but about what precisely?” With an offended tone, he asked, “and... ALMOST right?”

“You are not half-bad…” John teased, kissing his nape, “you are wonderful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit smaller... trying to get back on schedule!


	20. You could talk about it, you know?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An evening in 221b part 2 (aka “I am in love x 2”)

Sherlock remained immobile, it wasn’t their first kiss – he knew that it was, in fact, their twenty-sixth kiss including the ones on the cheek, hands or forehead – but that heavy kiss at the base on his nape wasn’t like the other. Unable to stop himself, he analysed the differences and similarities without finding something obvious.  _ It’s not our first, it’s not the heaviest, it’s not the longest, it’s not the first time alone.  _ It was driving him crazy! The only obvious difference was the intimate setting. The fact that it happened in  **his** home,  **his** world.  _ Decades of divorcing myself from feeling and being undone by a kiss, and not even on my mouth! _

“Darling, -“ as the other man stretched his already tall frame, he suddenly regretted the endearing term. “Sherlock, what’s wrong… Is this because I interrupted you?”

“No, nothing wrong. I am a bit tired maybe.”

“Tired, but I thought –“  _ Oh.. _ . Knowing an excuse when he heard one, he stepped back. “Sorry.”

Delicately placing his violin in its case, he turned to face John. _ My lovely, caring, wonderfully human John.  _ “Don’t be sorry, it’s... it’s me.”  _ I am so bad at this; he’s going to realise it and leave. Which is the plan... no? _

Rolling his eyes, the doctor sniggered sadly, “not the ‘it’s not me, it’s you’,” please... we haven’t known each other for a long time but I think we deserve better, no?”

“I, I don’t know what to do. I’m so sorry… I am not myself.”

John attitude relaxed at the man disarray. He placed a hand on Sherlock’s arm, “you could talk about it, you know? Just try to tell me what’s in your mind, use small words.”

Turning away from the window, where his music stand was, he walked in the direction of the sofa. “Do you want to watch telly? There’s a documentary on Jack the Ripper, we could see which one of us is going to find the most inaccuracies.”

Realising that the moment was over, John shook his head, “no way! You are going to win, it’s not fair!”

“Humm… Okay then, I am checking for the authenticity and you are going to spot the medical errors.”

“You are a menace.”

Grinning, Sherlock flung himself on the sofa and turned on the telly.

When the documentary ended, Sherlock won because John was finding him too cute when he was in deduction mode, but they remained on the sofa. Quiet, content. A nice Afghan blanket covering both of them, the vampire was afraid that his slightly cooler blood was too chilly for the doctor for an extended period, they were relaxing. 

It was cosy, easy, peaceful.  _ I would love to do this each evening, _ Sherlock thought before he realised what he was thinking. “You need to leave; you are working tomorrow…”

“What? I don’t want to,” John sighed, putting his head more firmly on Sherlock’s shoulder. “Working is overrated.”

Laughing, the vampire dropped a little kiss on his hair, “think about flu jabs, bloody noses –“

“Stop it!” Playfully the doctor pushed him until he fell on the sofa, before repeating with a hoarse voice as he straddled the tall man, “I don’t want to leave…”  _ I’m in love _ . _ OMG. _

With every fibre of his being, he wanted to scream,  _ ‘you don’t have to,’  _ but fear won, and he remained silent as he disengaged himself to get John’s coat. He nearly pushed a bemused John outside the flat before closing the door.  _ I’m in love. Shit.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiny I know!


	21. Change is annoyingly difficult

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After...

Sherlock pressed his forehead on the door as he listened to the sound of John walking down the stairs. _ Slow, regretful but somewhat resolute.  _ Feeling horrible at the idea that he caused distress to such a decent man, he shrugged his shoulders to push away Mycroft’s voice.  _ Do you want to play with the man?  _ Turning off a few lamps on his way, he stood near the window, wishing to look at the doctor one last time. After a few seconds, the main door closed, and the small silhouette walked in the direction of the tube station. 

Sad without being willing to admit why, Sherlock delicately picked up his violin again and started pouring his mixed feelings into his music. Anger toward himself as well as Molly and Greg for their stupid bet, incomprehension on how on Earth it was possible for John to destroy the walls he built around him all those years ago... His brother’s last comment,  _ I think I like this one finally _ , was just another riddle for his troubled mind!  _ Why, why does my brother look upon this human benevolently? This is useless if he… appreciated something in me it’s only a tame version of myself! Nobody in his right mind would want to go out with me, would want to interact with me!  _

Above all, his veins were pulsing with need and want, barely able to calm the urge to run down the street to offer himself soul and body. 

After fifteen minutes of agonising music, a soft knock on the door dared to interrupt his sulky mood.  _ Now wasn’t the right time for a 'nice' talk! _ Not even actually stopping the martyr of his poor instrument, he shouted, “go away Hudders _ ,  _ I want to be alone!” His music covering the sound he never realized that someone entered the room until fingers delicately stroked his back. He turned, nearly dropping his precious Stradivarius, his burst of exasperation at the old woman’s meddling disappearing as he murmured, “J... John?”

“Yes, you idiot, I don’t know why you pushed me out like that and we are talking about this later, but it felt ridiculous to go back to my flat alone when...” He stopped to gingerly remove the antique instrument from Sherlock’s trembling hands before placing it on a nearby small table.

A voice broken with emotions, the vampire repeated, eager, “when, what...?”

“When all I want to do is this,” he slowly kissed the motionless man at the crook of his neck, “and that,” he licked his way up to his neck, savouring the frantic beats of Sherlock’s heart. Hands in his lustrous curls, he angled his head to be able to access his eyebrows and kissed them slowly, taking his time to the detective a chance to protest, the moan coming out from his slightly opened lips the only consent he needed. Peppering kisses all over his perfect face, he rejoiced in the feeling of finally being able to worship him as he deserved.  _ No more stolen kisses in an alley afraid of the opinion of others. No more quick fixes, we have all the time in the world.  _ His mind suddenly realized that Sherlock’s ‘eternity’ was not the classic ‘till death do us apart’ thing, but pushed that idea far away. Stepping one step closer he leaned his body against the taller one, he was satisfied that his own interest in the current activity found a match in the other man. Leaving one hand in the back of his head, he raised on his tiptoes and finally pressed his mouth eagerly on the cupid-bow lips. 

Finally participating, Sherlock opened his lips, wanting to draw John in, wanting to absorb everything. Sliding his previously useless hands down John’s back, he playfully squeezed his buttocks before pressing their bodies even closer at the risk of losing their equilibrium. 

Afraid of ending on the ground, the doctor gently directed the detective to a chair until the taller man’s calves bumped into a comfy black modern chair. Falling into his favourite chair, Sherlock pulled John until he was straddled over him, taking advantage of the better position to ruck up his plaid shirt until he was able to caress his skin, to press his lips on his scar on his left shoulder.  _ To think that he could have died, far away, without knowing me...  _

“Don’t do that,” John pleaded without real conviction, “it’s ugly.”

“It’s life, it can’t be ugly...” letting go of the wounded shoulder, he made him chuckle as he pressed his nose to his armpit, enjoying the manly odour under the mask of fragrances. 

“You are ridiculous, stop smelling my deodorant -” the protestations were lost as Sherlock continued his path until he stopped to smell John’s essence, just at the crook of his neck. Where the artery is so near. 

The doctor remained immobile, waiting. He wasn’t afraid, not even concerned, by the idea of having a vampire smelling his neck as if it were a precious wine. Or more precisely, he wasn’t afraid of having  **this** vampire in that position. 

His lips now pressed on the doctor’s jugular, the vampire closed his eyes, trying to capture everything his senses could as his mouth filled with saliva.  _ The heart beating more quickly, the slight change in John’s odour, his hands handling me more firmly... Is he afraid of me?  _ The constant pressure of his erection becoming even firmer pushed that idea away.  _ Not anxious then.  _ Licking the spot playfully, to remove any doubt in John’s mind, Sherlock firmly willed his canines down as the other man moved more quickly, looking for a release. 

As the seconds and minutes went by, he frowned, worried for Sherlock. “Darling, that's getting a bit scary now, are you all right?” 

_It’s been so long, so damn long since the last time where I allowed myself to let go. _It was hard, the risk of being hurt, of hurting John physically or mentally when he finally realizes all his flaws. _Oh my God, this is difficult, it was better when I wasn’t feeling anything! _“Change is...” the detective muttered, his voice broken by lust, "annoyingly difficult." 

Opening the man’s posh shirt to have better access to his lithe torso, John leaned to murmur in his ear, “but everything worth doing is difficult.”


	22. We could have a chance.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the morning... (Day 1!)

“Woo-hoo, Doctor Watson, are you decent?” 

The shrill voice woke John from a wonderful dream. He opened his eyes, trying to remember why he felt so stiff. Everywhere.  _ Oh yes, Sherlock’s sofa.  _ Frowning, he realised that the object of his dream wasn’t with him. _ Where is he? _

Ms Hudson, now about to open the curtains, chided gently. “Isn’t it a bit rakish, at your age and in your position, sleeping on a sofa like that.” She hummed as she brought the empty glasses of wine to the kitchen. “Do you want tea dear?”

Looking at his phone, John realized that it was 6:00 in the morning, plenty of time to go home for a quick shower and a change of clothes before heading to work. “Yes, please, Ms Hudson, a quick one before I leave to get ready for the day.” He accepted the tea with a polite smile, not knowing what was expected from him in this kind of situation.  _ Waking alone in another man’s flat was… a bit strange _ . Looking around, he asked, “have you seen Sherlock?”

“Sherlock? He left at 3 o’clock in the morning, a case, I think. He asked me to wake you up at 6 for work.”

“Oh.” John was curiously disappointed; he knew that it was reasonable to let him sleep but he didn’t like the idea of Sherlock wandering about in the night alone. “Okay.” He drank his tea silently. _Oh my God, that lovely old lady... she's a vampire also... I really need to go back into 'normal life' asap!_

“You know, Doctor Watson -”

“Please call me John!”

“John,” she paused, hoping she’s not overstepping, “Sherlock is a peculiar man, even without considering the... the immortal part of him, and... and I think that he loves you a lot.”

“Ms Hudson, I -”

“No, no, I know he appears a bit inconsiderate, what, with his not so nice deductions or the way he often totally forgets about the world around him.” She looked at the pared-down flat, devoid of experiments and naturalized small animals. “Give him a chance to show you his true self, it’s the only thing that I ask of you.” She sighed out melancholically, “don’t let him sabotage everything.”

Not understanding her insinuation, it wasn’t the first time he recalled yesterday’s comment, he simply replied as he raised to left the flat and start his day, “I am going to, don’t worry, I want this to work. I really think we could have a chance.”  _ Anyway, I can’t imagine anything so detrimental in his behaviour that... _

Sherlock was hovering over the crime scene, trying to find the cause of the death when Lestrade stopped at his side.

“Well? How is it going?” Even Sherlock was aware that his tone was a bit too cheery for this early in the morning and the current situation.  Being near a corpse and all.

“Obviously, it appears a marksman, ballistics will confirm the bullet size but with the angle of the body the shooter was -” 

“Yeah, yeah, great,” Lestrade interrupted before he playfully punched the consultant’s arm, “but I’m talking about the datesssss.” The emphasis on the plural intentional.

“The date?” He turned to look at the older man, “you are seriously talking about that stupid bet instead of the case?”

“The bet?” Greg frowned, trying to remember something about a bet, “oh no, not _ that  _ really, Molly and I are more excited by the fact that you aren’t bored yet and already at your what, third date?”

“If you considered yesterday’s visit at my place because I was at home arrest as a date, it’s the fifth.” Sherlock muttered, happy that Lestrade called him for this case nonetheless his menace.  _ It’s barely a four, but it gave me a reason to be away from home when John should be waking up. He must learn that cases are always the first priority in my life without any exception.  _ He tried not to acknowledge the fact that he would have preferred to stay in John’s warm embrace instead of rushing off to a crime scene. 

Shaking his head to get his focus back on the corpse he was interrupted once more when his phone vibrated.

> Thank you for letting me sleep in this morning, I’m off to work now. I hope that the case is complicated enough to stimulate your wonderful mind. Let me know later if you are available tonight and want to do something or if you just want to tell me what the case was about. Have fun! x

He quickly replied with a non-committal ‘have a nice day at work’ and grinned for a second as he pocketed his phone... before he realized that John passed his first test.

_ Fuck. _


	23. You can’t give more than yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock tests John a few more times...

After work, John opened his phone to find two new messages. The first was from Sherlock simply stating that the case was closed and that after all the fuss, it was stupidly easy, the second was from his sister asking if his sanity was back and if he had kicked out the vampire from his life for good yet. Chuckling at the idea, as if it were possible now, he erased her text, took up his coat and headed for the door when he was interrupted by Sara. 

“John! How are you! It’s been four days now, still happy with your choice of joining us?” 

Opening the door of the clinic for her, John smiled, feeling so happy that he was a second away from singing, “it’s been a great week, everything is perfect!”

Laughing, Sara teased, “I have the feeling, Doctor, that our little clinic is not the reason why you are beaming!” As John cheeks turned pink, she added, “don’t worry, love is a really good endorphin provider which is really good if you don’t gaze into the void for hours thinking about your beautiful, tall and dark vampire.”

“How... how do you know what he looks like?” John asked, bemused. 

Tilting her head to indicate the sidewalk, she stage-whispered, “a man is standing on the other side of the street, obviously waiting, and actually look as if he wants to kill me with his bare hands.” She chuckled, stepping aside from John (Her head is not filled with dark stories and urban legends about vampires, but she’s not THAT brave!). “Goodbye John, see you tomorrow!”

Shaking his head, John walked towards Sherlock who was still frowning in the direction of the woman as she walked away. “Don’t be stupid, she’s my boss and I think the first thing I said to her was that I was already taken by a wonderful man...” He gently kissed the cold yet strangely warm lips. “That’s a nice surprise, shouldn’t you be back to your flat now that the case is over? Or has Lestrade decided it was pointless?”

The detective stayed still, not understanding what’s going on.  _ We only know each other for days, why isn’t he annoyed by my jealousy?  _

“I don’t know if you have anything planned, but I need first to go to my flat for a shower and a change of clothes, I’ve been puked on by a toddler...” 

Sherlock called a cab, lost in his thoughts and absent-mindedly gave John’s address.

Once in the small, complete but cold apartment, the doctor rushed to the shower. “Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be ready for whatever you have in mind! Or if you want to stay put and relax it’s okay.”

Looking around the flat, Sherlock wasn’t able to resist to poke around a bit. Sadly, it was anonymous... As if the doctor knew that it wasn’t his home yet, only a place to sleep. A few paperbacks, mostly spy novels, and medical journals, a few cds... No pictures, nothing related to his time in the army...  _ Strange. _ He was about to open the bedroom door when the water stopped. Hesitating for a moment, he entered the room anyway,  _ A British male spend ten minutes for personal grooming per day, less if they don’t shave, I have a few minutes.  _ The bedroom was as impersonal as the rest of the space:  _ bed made with military precision, a small picture of a woman – probably his mother – as well as a group of young men in rugby uniforms, a brand of generic lube and condoms in the nightstand (extra-large, but who’s looking) and ahhh, finally, a little something interesting in the wardrobe, let’s try to - _

“Need help with something?” John called from the bedroom door.

_Oh! Here we go, this is not going to end well. _“I was alone and curious, not a good mix.” He paused before his lovely mouth was adorned by a peevish smile, knowing that what he had just done was absolutely not good. Even if he never understood why people were so possessive about their things.

“I know, you are a menace,” the doctor laughed and entered the room to get fresh socks. “I forgot to pick a pair.” He sat at the edge of the bed, after a quick peek on Sherlock’s lips, without discussing the invasion of his privacy. “What do you want to do?”

_ What? How could he - _ “You... you are not angry?” The detective asked, unable to stop himself.

“We haven’t talked about privacy yet... I can understand that in your line of work it’s second nature. You can’t give more than your usual self right now, I understand, all this is quite new for you.” He walked to his wardrobe to select a smart pair of black shoes. “Are we going to walk or run a lot? If so, I am not going to put these on, stupid purchased really, they pinch my toes.”

Without thinking, the vampire muttered, “there’s a new show at the planetarium so I thought that....” Still flabbergasted, Sherlock insisted, “you are going to let that slide, really?”

“Nice, I love stars and planets, it’s so relaxing! Perfect after a long day of work. It is so wonderful of you to remember that I love astronomy!” It was one of the subjects they talked about on their first night. “Regarding what happened, I have the feeling that you are an intelligent man.” He chuckled at the understatement, “so consider yourself warned, the things in that bedroom are out of bounds for the moment and I would like for you to respect that from now on...” with a wink, he added “except for what’s in my nightstand.” He turned on his heel with a sweet innocent smile and grabbed his coat. “Come on darling, I am terribly hungry!”

Baffled, Sherlock followed the man, not really understanding what’s going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The London Planetarium is a part of Ms Tussaud 'attraction park' and is not showing astronomical show anymore but 3D film. The real planetarium in London is now in Greenwich.


	24. Patience… is not something I’m known for.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after, John is suddenly scared for Sherlock.

The morning after, John still felt as giddy as a teenager!  _ It was the perfect date! _ Sherlock’s lack of understanding of anything related to the solar system, or even just the stars, gave him a perfect occasion to show off his knowledge. The deserted planetarium also opened the door to extra-curricular activities. Smiling as he brushed his teeth, John chuckled as he spits out the toothpaste.  _ Dry-humping while a voice-over scientist talked about nebula and black-hole, it was surreal! And a first!  _ The caustic humour, the possessive behaviour, the feeling that the much older vampire was a bit lost in this avalanche of feelings… all this was thrilling.  _ I, John H. Watson, am driving a beautiful and intelligent immortal a bit mad.  _

Walking into his small kitchen, he started to prepare his coffee, turning the radio for the news. The weather was glorious, his favourite rugby team had won, all the Tube lines were on time for once.  _ I am in love, everything else is perfect, how can I ask for more!  _ He stopped what he was doing, his coffee mug suspended in mid-air.,  _ I am in love _ . It wasn’t the first time that the idea had crossed his mind since he met the other man, but it was the first time where it only brought joy without a glimpse of doubt. His life without the detective suddenly seemed impossible.  _ Yes, I am going to do that. I am going to ask Sherlock to be my… my boyfriend.  _ Inhaling slowly, he tried to analyse his emotions. Unable to find a trace of doubt or panic, he smiled.  _ Yes. This is the one.  _

He was about to leave his flat when the news anchor reported on a gruesome murder in his borough. 

“The body of a man was found late last night in Newington, in a secluded unnamed lane near King Edward Walk. At the present time, we know nothing of the victim or the cause of death, except that the victim is a vampire. As the murder of an  _ afflicted _ is a crime of a particular nature, a government official –“ Turning off the radio, John opened his phone with shaking hands.  _ No, no, I knew I should have stayed with him or put him in a cab myself! _ He knew it was ridiculous, vampires are more than able to protect themselves! But the fact that the murder was so close to his flat, that it’s happened after they went their separate ways was unbearable. Unable to get his fingers to stop shaking enough to text, he simply called Sherlock.  _ Come on, reply, reply, reply! _

“John? I’m on a case right now, can I talk to you la–“

“WHY didn’t you text me to tell me that you were all right?” John – now aware that Sherlock was okay – was fuming.

“That I am -,” the detective paused, “Oh, my new case, the man near Waterloo Station… you thought that it was me?”

_ I thought that… _ “Jesus Sherlock, a male vampire, fifteen minutes away from my place! Of course, I thought about you! But no, you are here talking to me as if it was nothing!”

Unsure, he asked, “are you angry that… it wasn’t me?”

“No, you git!” He sighed, screaming in silence as he tried to stay calm. “I am angry that you didn’t text me to say that you were all right when you heard of the crime.”

“John, it’s my job, it’s bound to happen that –“

“Yes, yes, yes, I know, I just –“ The doctor tried to push away the fear he felt, so he could speak rationally to him, perhaps make him understand his side.

After a few seconds, Sherlock murmured, “you just?”

“I just want to know that you are safe and that, when a situation occurs where you could be involved, if you could simply text me to let me know that you are okay.”

“John, don’t you think it’s –“

“What if it was me?” John interrupted impatiently.

“What?”

“If the Tube line I take every day derailed at 8:30 in the morning, wouldn’t you want to know if I were safe or not?”

“Oh… oh… yes.” The dangers that John, as simply a fragile human being, faced everyday were suddenly endless! “I didn’t… I was so excited you know because heinous crimes towards us are really rare nowadays and –“

“Heinous?”  _ This is even worse… _ “Are you at risk?”

Sherlock had the nerve to chuckle, “me?” At John’s moan of exasperation, he explained, “sorry, again, Mycroft is always following me everywhere, so I am not used to thinking about… about someone else... That someone else may worry for me.” For once since he started to act his normal self, he curiously felt bad that his selfish behaviour disappointed John. Without thinking that it was useless if he wanted John to quit on him, he murmured, “be patient with me, I am going to get better at this.”

“Patience… is not something I’m known for,” John chuckled, “but for you, I am willing to learn to be.”

“Thank you, I will really try my best… I need to go, Lestrade is waiting for me.”

“Solve me a crime, Sherlock Holmes, but be careful! I don’t like the idea of a weirdo targeting your community!”

“I will. Have a nice day, love.” The detective ended the call before he realized what he had just said. 

To say who was the more astonished by his use of the term of endearment was impossible to say. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But Lestrade who was near Sherlock surely laughs lok


	25. I could really eat something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock is a bit of a nuisance sometimes.

Knowing that Sherlock was on a case, John first kept his phone nearby. 

Then the texts started to pop. 

It was great, then funny until it was a nuisance and the doctor decided to put it in his locker, even if his mind kept going back to the spontaneous endearments that Sherlock used when they talked and the fact that a vampire killer may be currently roaming London!

Once his last patient left, he went back to the staff room to pick his things and open his phone again.

Scrolling his text app up to the first text of the day, he read them all. All 20+ of them.

> 9:05 Really sorry again. SH
> 
> 9:06 Truly. I’m on my way to the autopsy. SH
> 
> 10:40 Still alive. We are progressing. SH
> 
> 11:15 The victim. He was what most people call a good man. He married a non-v 2 years ago SH
> 
> 11:16 I forgot. I am well. SH
> 
> 11:17 Hope you are well too. SH
> 
> 11:18 non-v is an acronym we used when talking about vampires and non-vampires. SH
> 
> 11:45 Still not dead. SH
> 
> 11:47 In fact, technically I am a bit dead. SH
> 
> 11:48 But in a generic way, I am not. SH
> 
> 12:15 Are you eating? Are you doing well? SH
> 
> 13:45 Baker Street. Come at once if convenient. SH
> 
> 13:47 If inconvenient come anyway. SH
> 
> 14:24 Are you mad at me? SH
> 
> 15:05 Lestrade said that maybe you turned off your phone at work. SH
> 
> 16:25 I think this is inconvenient. SH
> 
> 16:26 Surely a case is more important than talking to an adolescent about zits. SH
> 
> 16:40 Is your shift over at 5? SH
> 
> 17:01 Where are you? SH
> 
> 17:02 It’s 2 minutes passed 5, surely your tedious day is over? SH
> 
> 17:03 Are you angry? SH
> 
> 17:04 If you are still angry, I understand. SH
> 
> 17:05 I think. SH

Shaking his head, John removed his lab coat and took his jacket. His phone pinging incessantly in his pocket, he looked again. The insecurity of the brilliant man was charming and infuriating at the same time.

> 17:06 Are you? SH
> 
> 17:06 Angry I mean. SH
> 
> 17:07 It’s been 7 minutes now. SH
> 
> 17:08 If you are not angry, why are you not talking to me? SH
> 
> 17:09 Your phone is broken, or you have been kidnapped, I am going to ask my brother to check on you. SH

Reading the last message as he walked out of the staff room, he was about to call him when he spotted Sherlock waiting in an uncomfortable plastic chair, obviously agitated. Stepping in front of him, he grabbed his phone. “You are going to do nothing of the sort, I think your brother has more important things to do.” Kissing the young/old man on his lips softly, he smiled, “what about these texts? Is this something that I should expect every day now? If so, I will need to make new arrangements with my phone provider.”

_ Why on Hell is he not mad at me?  _ Mirth in his eyes, Sherlock smiled mischievously, “Maybe it’s a good idea…”

“Oh, what I am going to do with you!” John grabbed his hand and directed them to the door, unwilling to continue the free show they were giving to the nurses and secretary. All cooing not so silently.

Sherlock, who didn’t realize the attention they were getting, frowned as he was manhandled outside. “What?”

“I don’t really want to share you with all the women of the clinic, and few of the men probably.” He kissed him tenderly. “If you didn’t have anything planned, I could really eat something now.” He suddenly frowned, feeling stupid that he never asked more specific details about Sherlock’s… habits. He had read a lot of serious documentation in the last days about vampires, especially how different they could be from each other.  _ Got the feeling that this one, especially, isn’t like the others!  _ “Did you, have you, I mean… you.” He exhaled and chuckled,  _ get a grip, you are a doctor!  _ “Do you need to eat?”

“You waited nearly a week before asking questions like that, you are a special man, Doctor Watson.” Holding the man’s hand, he turned in the direction of a nice café near the clinic. “Know that I usually drink a bottle of substitute blood every other day. That I prefer Negative A… Some studies showed that we usually preferred blood of our same sanguine group, but I can’t say for me as blood typing wasn’t understood before my transformation.”

“So, a bottle every two days, that’s all.” He frowned, as it seemed so little for such a tall man. “Isn’t it too little?”

“It’s enough. I am also eating a bit of food, as you know, but it doesn’t add anything to our system. It’s for pleasure only.” John’s cheeks suddenly darken at the emphasis on pleasure.

“You are a menace, Mister Holmes.”

Laughing openly, the detective added, “I never have been a big eater, to Hudders’ despair, and I often space the feeding a bit more when I am on a case.”

“You are starving yourself; this can’t be healthy!”

“When you are hungry, you are more focused, like a hunter looking for prey,” knowing that this point of view may be uncomfortable for the doctor, Sherlock pulled the smaller man into his arms. “Don’t worry, I don’t want to chase anyone,” nipping at his earlobe, he murmured, “only you, if you ask nicely.”

“Talk to me about the case, instead of putting ideas in my mind!”

The detective happily started to explain what they learned (not that much – which was annoying), the contribution of Scotland Yard (almost nothing – which was habitual) and what was going to be their next moves. John, starting to feel like a soundboard, often pushed the conversation further with questions or observations.  _ I should open my old blog and write all this down one day! _

Both of them too captivated by the presence of the other that they never realized that someone was following them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still two days behind! But it's getting there lol


	26. You keep me warm.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is still afraid for Sherlock and a little discussion with Molly

After hours of deducing the crime scene, searching into the vampires’ registry and running from one side of the town to the other, the only thing to do at that point – to Sherlock’s dismay – was to wait. As nothing could be done, the detective decided to join John instead of pestering the doctor until he joined him! He, of course, would never admit that he missed the man dearly and that the lack of response to his numerous texts was driving him nuts! But now, everything was perfect once again, the conversation flowing easily between the case and John’s uneventful day at the surgery. After a quick meal, in which Sherlock ate half of John’s chips and pudding, they walked in the direction of Bart’s to wait for the results of some analysis. The anger he felt since the violent death of a member of his community was pushed away to be replaced by John’s comforting presence. 

The fact that they realized that the death of another vampire a week earlier, that was thought to be an accident, was now considered suspect was one more point to discuss. “A serial killer John, I love them! Always something to wait for! So sad I wasn’t able to get Jack the Ripper!” John, muttering something about how horrible to hope for a serial killer, smiled indulgently at him, anyway. Sherlock had a lot to say and talked with passion about the discovery he made and his theories while John simply listened or argued back with some ideas of his own. The pride in the vampire’s eyes when the doctor’s thoughts were similar to his or to the contrary, something totally new, causing constant joy and satisfaction that it was impossible for a locum job in a local surgery to beat. 

The detective was composing a list of the different ways the vampire may have been killed, debunking some legends at the same time, when he realized that John wasn’t as involved in the discussion as before. “John? Are you all right?”

“It’s just that... to think that a... a MANIAC may choose you as his next target.” The doctor’s hands were slightly shaking, the fear of losing Sherlock as strong as it was when he learned the news about the murder.  _ How could he talk so rationally about which poisons are effective or how much vampires must be beaten before their strong bodies are unable to cope! And the cutting of the head! “ _ All these things that you are describing are horrible.”

Holding John’s hand a bit tighter, Sherlock murmured, “everyone is at risk of something, John. A crazy man could enter the clinic tomorrow afternoon because a doctor helped his girlfriend who asked for an abortion and -”

“I know, shit happens.” He tried to order his thoughts, “but it’s not as if someone was specifically targeting a random doctor.”  _ It’s exactly the same discussion we had this morning, I don’t understand why he doesn’t get it! _

“Talking of random killing, you were in the army -”

“It was before I met you, that’s not a valid argument.” John smiled, pushing him playfully to lighten the mood, “and I presume that you’ve been in the army a few times in the last century, with a dozen of colonial war and two World War!”

“The army? As if I would be able to thrive in such a rigid environment! At the exception of the brilliant and sexy red coat, the army is -”

“In the Intelligence Service then,” John laughed thinking once more that he must find an opportunity to wear his old formal uniform.

“Ah! Now you are talking, of course I was part of the Intelligence... Worked a bit with Turing, a really wonderful man, I still don't understand how Mycroft wasn't able to do something to prevent that wasteful misused of a wonderful mind." He remained silent for a moment, thinking once more how grateful he was that society was finally accepting homosexuality, that he was able to hold John's hand in public. "So, that's it, I worked on Enygma before heading for Berlin -”

Impressed, John repeated, “Berlin?”

“Yes, of course, someone add to make sure that that bastard Hitler was really dead...” 

They laughed, pressed against one another, the sensation of warmth that was emanating from John a constant surprise to the vampire. It was as if he was fully alive again, the coldness finally leaving his body. It was the right place, at the right moment.  Their moment.

Molly was about to call him when Sherlock and John entered the lab. “Oh! Perfect, the process ended a minute ago!” 

“Good, thanks Molly,” removing his coat in a dramatic swirl he sat at the lab table to read the precise composition of the blood of the victim in hopes of finding the exact cause of death.

The pathologist stepped near John and murmured, “want to grab a coffee? I’ve got the feeling that it’s going to be a while and Sherlock doesn’t like when -”

“Molly dear, please shut up,” the vampire muttered with a little smirk.

Laughing, she opened the door of the lab, raising a brow. “You see?”

Once outside of the lab, the woman became animated. “So... I was there that night at the pub, don’t know if you remember?”

“Uh... no, sorry.”  _ My eyes were otherwise occupied. _

“He’s a good man you know, even if he’s grumpy sometimes!” She shook her head, thinking of all the late-night in the lab when she remained at the detective beck and call.  _ I was so silly!  _ “So happy that you hit it on quickly! Sherlock needs a friend, especially right now.” She sighed sadly as she called the lift. “Poor man.”

Not knowing what she was talking about, John waited a bit for more then asked, “why? Why right now?”

“Because of the death of his friend, of course.” Molly looked at the doctor as if he was a dimwit. “You know, he may be a bit harsh sometimes, but he’s a human... as human a vampire can be. No, I mean, he has feelings.”

“Of course he feels things! I know this, even if he showed me his ‘jerky’ side enough since yesterday... But I have no idea what you are talking about -” John stopped walking, his hand on the cafeteria door handle, “no, don’t tell me that the victim was a friend?”

“Yes, I thought that... Oh, so sorry, but that’s weird... He didn’t tell you? Really?”

_ No, he didn’t bloody tell me! _ Turning on his heel, John walked back in the direction of the lab.


	27. Can you wait for me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock, with help from John, finds the link between the two victims (even though at first, John is somewhat disappointed that the detective didn’t tell him about his friend). 

“Sherlock... Sherlock... SHERLOCK!”

The detective was lost in his Mind Palace trying to figure out where someone can put their hands on antimonide, tetrodotoxin and ricin, when a voice calling his name brought him back to the surface. 

“**Sherlock Holmes!**” John wasn’t as calm as he was when he first called for him, “stop ignoring me!”

“John?” An amorous smile quickly replaced his annoying demeanour, “Sorry, I was in my Mind Palace, sometimes I can get lost for hours... do not worry. Are you already back from your coffee?”

Rolling his eyes, the doctor shouted, “I’ve been away 10 minutes top, you git,” before calming himself.  _ Remember John, he’s mourning a friend! “ _ Sorry, that was uncalled for. It’s just that Molly... she told me that -”

Quickly, afraid that the pathologist has talked about that silly bet, Sherlock interrupted, “nothing of importance, she’s always blabbering about silly things! Mostly false!”

Not acknowledging the silliness of the statement, John wrapped the lanky man in his arms. “I know about...”, he craned his neck to look at the result sheet on the lab table in front of them, “Henry.” Kissing his temple, he added, “why didn’t you tell me he was a friend? That changes things.”

After a moment of silence in which the detective simply enjoyed being surrounded by John, the action being easier as the smaller man was standing while the vampire was still on his stool, Sherlock muttered, “why is that supposed to change things? We still need to find his killer.”

Without letting go, John tilted his head to look Sherlock in the eyes, “seriously? Don’t you think you should let someone else work this case?”

“John, I am sure that Henry would be 100% on board with the idea that I look for his killer and not some dumbass wannabe c-”

“Okay, you’ve got a point,” hugging the man a bit more strongly, he murmured, “why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have started a whole argument this morning... I understand now that above all the thrill of the chase, the fact that it was a friend was enough to jumble your thoughts.” 

Still unable to name his emotion, even less talking about it, Sherlock shrugged, “I don’t know what to say... Henry was a good person, a nice man to be around. More intelligent than most. Well-liked by everyone. He works,  _ worked _ with SDF, especially ‘young’ vampires. The new ones, created without authorisation, are often lost and in need of guidance.” He sighed, dropping his head back on John’s shoulder, and though he won’t admit it, it was comforting to be able to talk about his feelings. “He helped a few of my contacts, this is how I learned to appreciate him. He was so happy all the time, especially now that he had found his wife. They even talked about -” Rushing out of his yet-to-be-declared boyfriend’s arms, he called Lestrade. “Lestrade, one question, the other victim, yes, yes, the woman... who was she fiancée or married to -”, he stopped talking, waiting for the DI. Taking a pen, he suddenly started to write in the little notebook he always carried in his coat pocket. 

John was looking at him adoringly, Sherlock was so beautiful when he discovered something. When everything in his great mind suddenly aligned in perfect order; when all the dots suddenly connected together. 

“Oh, you are perfect!” The detective said after he hung up on Lestrade, kissing the doctor passionately. “The key was his personal life! Henry was married to a non-v and officially asked to change her so they could have an eternity together. The other victim, a woman, was _fiancée_ to a vampire but they recently completed a request to adopt a non-v baby near an official agency.” 

“So, the killer doesn’t want vampires to mixed with non-v! It’s like in the States when the KKK was killing the African American who dared to flirt with white girls! That’s horrible!” 

“Or he or she doesn’t want the creation of more vampires...” Looking at his papers with new eyes, he muttered, already away in his thoughts, “I have one more thing I need to check... can you... would you wait for me?”

“Of course, I’m not going anywhere. Maybe just to the cafeteria for that coffee... do you need something?”

“No, nothing...” knowing that it caused a great pleasure to the doctor, he spontaneously shouted before the door of the lab closed, “I changed my mind John, I’m in the mood to munch on something, a pack of salt and vinegar crisps would be great!!”

Laughing, the doctor walked back to the cafeteria.

Sherlock opened his eyes an hour or so later with a better understanding of the possible murderer. He quickly sent a text to Lestrade, asking for the criminal records of a few suspects and letting him know where he was heading to. Looking at the clock, he realised it has been more than two hours since John departure.  _ No chips or coffee cup on the table. Where’s John?  _ Checking his phone for texts or voicemail, he found none. He was about to call John when his phone rang, it was the doctor. 

“John? Where are you, I am ready to -”

“Mister Holmes,” a cold yet playful voice replied instead of John’s warm tone. “I’m sorry to say that your... friend is somewhat unavailable.”

“What did you do to him?”

“Nothing, I am waiting for you... It would be sad for you to miss the p arty. Meet me at the Lebanon Catacombs in 30 minutes. ” The call ended abruptly, leaving Sherlock completely lost, until his phone pinged.

> I won’t insult your intelligence by asking you to refrain from contacting the police or your esteemed brother. JM


	28. Enough! I’ve heard enough!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock is going to a meeting…

Trembling, Sherlock nearly dropped his phone. The big clock on the lab wall was approaching 23:30. _So, a meeting in a cemetery at midnight, someone likes a dramatic effect. _Rereading the text, he thought about calling his brother, but the risk was enormous. It was obviously linked to the two murders… _Why John, why not me? They killed vampires, not non-v. I don’t understand, what is so special about me that he has changed his_ _modus operandi?_ He was putting his coat on, lost in the possible scenarios where the man he loves doesn’t die because of him, when Molly entered the lab.

“Oh, you are finally out your Mind Palace?” She looked tired and overworked. “John is not with you?”

“No, no…”, the detective stuttered, “he’s of no use to me when I’m thinking.”

“Sherlock, that’s not nice! I hope you didn’t say something like that, you know in a relationship you –“ she continued but the vampire had already tuned her out. Without a word, he left her alone to get out of the hospital.

At that time of the evening, and with Sherlock’s overly generous tip, the 20-minutes ride was done in less than 15. Alone on a tranquil nearby street, he walked quickly to a secondary gate far from any lamppost and thankfully in the dark. Shivering at the thought of John in the middle of thousands of old Victorian gravestones and catacombs, he quickly jumped over the gate and entered the realm of the dead. As his eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness, one of the few perks of being a vampire, Sherlock tried to remember the way to the Lebanon Catacomb. He remembered the design and the general direction; it was a curiosity that he visited back at the end of the 19 th century. That way of piling corpses in great space, the commercial aspect of it at that time left a bad taste in his mouth and he never returned. The overflowing vegetation changed everything, blocking the light coming from the nearly full moon. The cemetery – already gloomy despite its magnificence – was darker than the night itself. 

Following the path, it was impossible to go between the tombstones as the ivy and trees blocked everything, Sherlock walked quickly while being attentive to his surroundings. The possibility that it was a trap was real. But nobody attacked him or appeared from behind the monuments, the cemetery was silent and deserted with the exception of the deceased. Unable to calm his imagination, the idea that some of his victims may be nearby was horrible, the always present guilt finding an opportunity to rise. Shaking his feelings away, he tried to relax.  _ It was just some criminals, without family, they can’t be in this posh cemetery. Anyway, they deserved to die. It was me or the scaffold. Stay calm, for God's sake! John needs you! _

After a few minutes, he stopped in front of the Egyptian Gate _ . Oh no, I wanted to arrive by one of the small entrances, not passing through this cut-throat of a tunnel!  _ He was pondering his options when a light flashed at the end of the small tunnel.

“Come in, Mister Holmes, we are waiting for you.” Directing the torch on the wall of the tunnel, the mocking voice added, “nothing to worry about, I need to talk to you first.” The man chuckles, “and Johnny boy is waiting for you.”

Without hesitation, Sherlock entered the majestic entrance to the Lebanon Catacomb, and shouted, “don’t you dare touch even one of his fingers!” The beauty and majesty of the Egyptian sculptures in the tunnel were lost to him, as eager as he was to get to John. At the end, he turned to his left, then his right, looking for the doctor and his opponent.

“Follow the circle…”, the voice of the criminal resonated in the closed space, his cheeriness an affront to the vampire’s concern.

He picked a side without thinking and nearly ran around the structure, assessing the various mausoleum doors. Everything was sealed. _ Where he is? Where’s John?  _ After the worst minutes of his life, he finally arrived at the place where the criminal was waiting. “Who are you?” 

“Jim Moriarty… Hi.”

“Where is John!”

“You have a really strange taste you know,” he knocked on a copper door to signal to his goons to bring Watson out. The other men, followed by a man that screamed paramilitary, dragged a chair where an unconscious John was tied.

Rushing towards him, Sherlock stopped as one of the men pulled a gun and positioned it behind John’s skull. “Oops! You've rather shown your hand there, Mister Holmes.”

“What do you want? He’s got nothing to do with this situation!” He calculated the possibility of fighting the five bulky men, it was possible with his strength but not while protecting an unconscious John. Trying another strategy, Sherlock murmured with a hint of awes, “I know who you are, you are the man who orchestrated the killings.” He paused, looking at Moriarty, “you know if it’s true you are really the top of the criminal class. The best I’ve seen in decades.” He mustered an admiring tone, trying to catch the attention of the criminal. “You are so young and so successful.” He knew it wasn’t that great of a crime, but he thought flattery couldn’t hurt under the circumstances.

“Sherlock, Sherlock, Sherlock, enough! I’ve heard enough! It’s a bit disheartening.” The madman shook his head and sighed, then shoved his hands into the pockets of his expensive suit, as if he was really disappointed by the detective’s attitude. “Trying your trick, trying to seduce me into letting that stupid doctor go.” He chuckled, “dear, it only works on feeble minds and you know that. So, DO NOT UNDERESTIMATE ME!” Jumping near his prisoner, he poked him a few times, as if he were only a living doll. “Nope, not moving. Boring. Only one way to save the man, Sherlock, only one.”

Stretching his long body and changing his tone back to his usual self, the vampire asked haughtily, “what do you want?”

“Not too much, I just want to become like you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Highgate is a wonderful (!) cemetery of you have the chance to be in London.
> 
> To give you an idea, they filmed a battle in Fantastic Beasts in that exact catacomb.


	29. I’m doing this for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night in a catacomb... with Jim Moriarty.

“Why... why do you want to become like me? It’s a curse!” Sherlock replied, trying to understand the motive while keeping an eye on John. “And why did you kill two people?”

“It was, let us say, a gift. Proof that I am not afraid of your kind, that I have what it takes to quietly kill all of you. One by one.” He smirked, proud of his trick, “did you love the link with the non-v?” The criminal chuckled, “look at me, already talking like a native.”

“Okay, let us say that I go with your crazy idea, that you wanted to be contaminated -”

“Don’t say it like that Sherlock,” Moriarty protested, “you are cheapening the process.”

“It is nothing more than a disease, and I would take a cure in a heartbeat if it were possible!”

“Don’t say that my sweet... Imagine an eternity to perfect the most glorious schemes, to solve and commit crimes...” He was frantic now, angry that the detective isn't able to understand his point of view. 

“Why me? I’m certain that many renegades would be pleased to have you join their rank.” Sherlock proposed.  _ Oh my God, John moved his fingers. _

Frowning at the suggestion, Moriarty theatrically shivered. “No way, these idiots? No, no, no I want my sire to be a genius, like me.”

Rolling his eyes, the detective muttered, “that’s just a fairy tale, you know, a new vampire doesn’t have any special bond with the bastard who contaminated them.”

Moriarty sighed, melancholically, “I would love to have a bond with you...” He walked near Sherlock while staying at a distance where his nervous goons would be able to intervene if necessary. “I have followed your career since I was a child, even started to commit crimes hoping that one day our paths would cross.” Murmuring for the detective’s ears only, he continued, “when I was an adolescent, I dreamed about you... Ah... the things I wanted to do to you,” he chuckled lewdly, “or you to do to me, I don’t mind, we can switch. I want to become a vampire to have an eternity to discover the secrets of your mind.”

“You are mad, I am going to repeat myself even if I hate it, there is no such thing as a familiarity bond.”

“A negative bond is still a bond...”, the criminal sniggered, looking Sherlock in his eyes. “Like you... and Victor Trevor.” Disgusted at the mention of the name, the vampire nearly jumped on the madman when John groaned. “Ohhhh, look who decided to join us!”

Opening his eyes with difficulty, he turned in the direction of the voice, “who are you?”

“A friend, of course.” 

“Sherlock,” the doctor moaned, “what’s going on?”

“Nothing to worry about, John,” the detective replied, eyes fixed on Moriarty. “I will not let anything happen to you.”

“How touching,” Moriarty interrupted, scraping his tongue with his teeth in disgust as if he was eating caramel. “How sickly sweet.”

“You are the weirdo who killed those poor people!” John suddenly screamed, “don’t you dare touch him!” At their boss’s signal, one of the thugs promptly placed a gloved hand over the doctor’s mouth.

“Is he always like that?” He patted John’s head as if he was a dog, “so loyal, that’s nice.” Turning back to Sherlock, he singsong, “I’m waiiiiiiiiiting.” 

“You are waiting in vain; I am not going to turn you into an immortal and stay with you as your... partner.”

“I’m doing this for you! Don’t you see it! I am not like that idiot,” he pointed at the doctor who was swearing heavily under the pressure on his mouth, “I love you for everything that you are. I studied you for years and I desire you for EVERYTHING. For your violin in the middle of the night, for when you disappear into your Mind Palace for hours, I will build you a lab with everything that you need to do all the craziest experiments... I want YOU, all of YOU.” He paused, suddenly dispassionate. “You are going to say yes or I will kill Doctor Watson. Violently” Raising a syringe containing the poison used to kill the two others vampires, he threatened, “after I destroy you, or before, I don’t know which will entertain me more.”

Finally, able to bite the hands that were trying to secure him, John screamed “runnnnnnnn Sherlock! Run!”

Laughing, Moriarty walked back to the chair where his captive was tied. “Truly courageous, Doctor Watson. Are you able to be just a bit more courageous?” His second stranded near John and holding his hand, draw a knife. “On the count of three Moran starts cutting Doctor Watson fingers.” Tugging John’s hair, he asked, “do you have anything to say? You can talk now you know.”

“Go to Hell.”

Moriarty slapped hard the doctor. “That is precisely where I want to go but your friend doesn’t want to!” 

Sherlock instinctively made a move in John’s direction, but Moran was quick and already pressing on the knife until blood started to drip on the catacomb’s sandy soil.  _ Blood. John’s blood.  _ Stepping back, the vampire slowly inhaled, fighting the urge to lick the sand.  _ What’s going on! I haven’t reacted like that since my first years...  _

Shifting his gaze between John and Sherlock, Moriarty smiled diabolically. “Oh, this is new isn’t it, your reaction. True that you can’t go on a crime scene if you are licking the victims’ blood.” He laughed as if the idea was funny instead of horrible. “I don’t get it, why him, he’s not special… he’s so ordinary... Moran, just kill him already.”

The vampire, turning crazy, regained the force he once had, threw his phone - the only thing in his possession - at Moran’s arm making him drop the knife and jumped on the first guard, breaking his neck. The second, stupid enough to place himself in front of his boss, died less than a minute later. Quickly disposing of the other men, he ran until he dropped in front of John. “Are you all right? Tell me, please, that you are unhurt...” His hands were shaking, unable to unknot the cord.

“Yes, love, breathe, just breathe...” Looking around, he frowned, “where’s the bastard?”

“I saw him running out with Moran, they left as soon as he dropped the knife.” He swore as the knots remained unbreakable.

“Love,” John murmured soothingly, knowing that Sherlock wasn’t himself, “use Moran’s knife, it’s just there where he dropped it.”

“Oh, yes...” he quickly cut the heavy cord, before pressing the doctor in his arms. “I was... 

I... I was so afraid. I am so sorry.” He was panicking, not understanding what was going on, when John slowly ran a hand in his hair, trying to calm him. Jerking away at the sight of the blood, Sherlock muttered, “I am sorry, I can’t... I can’t... be here right now. Get out of here... Go home... Sorry...” then turned on his heel and ran leaving John alone in the catacomb.


	30. I’m with you, you know that

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Running away can bring you where you should be...

Not listening to John anxiously screaming at him to wait, Sherlock runs like he had never had before, sliding on the damp path, full of fallen leaves and small broken branches. The tombstones were the only obstacles to his will to get the maximum of distance between him and John. 

To keep the doctor safe from his horrible instinct, safe from him... 

Not caring about his burning lungs or his painful legs. _ John. John. John. John. _ Until he was out of the cemetery. _ John. John. John. John. _ Until the pull towards John’s blood started to diminish. _ John. John. John. John. _ Until he broke down crying in a dark alley wrapped in his long coat. _ John. John. John. John. _His lanky arms wrapped around his knees solidly, as if he was tying himself down, unable to trust his own body, his own mind. 

This is how Mycroft found him, twenty minutes later. Kneeling beside him without a thought about his immaculate trousers, he placed a comforting hand on his younger brother’s shoulder. “First know that your doctor is safely back home, the sedative was mild and didn’t leave any lasting symptoms. His...” he paused a moment, “his small wounds have been taken care of.” As the younger man remained silent and was still shaking, Mycroft sighed and sat carefully near Sherlock, back pressed against the cold brick wall. _ God knows how many dogs and drunken men urinated on that wall. _“Tell me what happened, please. I want to help you. I’m with you, always, you know that.” After a moment, he pressed his brother against him, trying to calm him. “That criminal, Moriarty, John told me, flew away but we are going to find him, don’t worry. You are going both to be able to have a great life without his interferen -” Interrupted by understandable muttering, Mycroft tilted his head to be nearer, “what did you say?" 

Voice breaking with emotion, the detective repeated a little bit clearer, “not together.” 

“Why are you saying this? You really think that you are both not good for each other? How could you -” 

After pushing himself up from the ground with difficulty, emotionally and physically drained, Sherlock stood before distancing himself from his brother. Holding a hand up to keep him away now that the older vampire was also back on his feet, he whispered sadly, “leave me alone, please...” The pleading tone was so unusual that Mycroft stood silent, astonished, as his brother ran away to get a cab. 

John was alone, feeling the weight of the additional security measures that discreetly protected him. He looked at his hand, where a neat bandage, was covering the small wound Moran left behind. _Only three suture points, nothing extraordinary... I am going to get back the full use of my hand within a week. _Closing his eyes, he remembered Sherlock’s expression when the blood started dropping. The lust, the hunger... A look he never seen in the vampire’s eyes since he had started to befriend him._ I’ve been on crime scenes with him and he never reacted like that, he told me that he drank yesterday... I don’t understand!_ Checking his phone, he read a few articles regarding the relationship between vampires and blood, without finding anything helpful. Looking at his browser history, he chuckled on how single-minded his searches had become over the last few days! _Only a week, how is it possible for everything to change so quickly. I was so alone without even realizing it and... a miracle entered my life. How could I be so lucky?_

Happy about the possibility of a relationship with Sherlock but full of worry because of his escape from the cemetery, he opened a kitchen cupboard for a bottle of whisky and poured two fingers in a heavy glass. _ I shouldn’t, but I really need it. _ His drink in hand, he walked to his chair and sat down, his phone next to him. _Mycroft told him that he was going to find and take care of his brother, there is nothing I can do right now._ Sipping his whisky, he sighed. _ Now I wait until he finds his way back to me. _

After having changed his mind four or five times, driving the cab driver crazy, Sherlock was finally strong enough (or too much of a coward) to go directly to Baker Street instead of John’s flat. Slowly, he opened the door and – without being able to stop himself – he knocked softly at Ms Hudson’s door. At the sadness in her ward’s eyes, she quickly engulfed him in her arms, rocking back and forth to calm the young man who was now sobbing earnestly. “What’s wrong...” She knew better than to say that Mycroft had called to inform her that it wasn’t a good night for his younger brother. 

Able to talk in the warmth and affection of the old lady, he murmured, ashamed, “I nearly attacked John, my precious, beautiful, gentle John.” 

“I’m sure that it’s not that bad, talk to me, my boy.” 

Stepping away from his old nanny, he sniffed and wiped his eyes. _ My emotions are failing me, how pedestrian. “ _I am not a child, do not worry about me Hudders. I am disgusting, that’s all...” 

“Don’t say things like that. I don’t understand, it’s not like you... You haven’t touched anyone that doesn’t deserve it and, since other options are available, you haven’t drunk human blood even if plenty would have happily offered it to you!” Stroking his cheek to get his attention, though she could see he was slowly falling away in his Mind Palace, she knew the signs, “darling boy, you have worked on crime scenes, you have watched autopsies!” 

With a small voice, he explained, “he... he was harmed, nothing serious but blood was dripping. I became furious, my force decoupled... I killed a few men. It was quick, but all the time my body was singing ‘blood, John’s blood, mine! Mine!” He shook his head, unable to understand what happened. “I nearly licked his blood in the sand, I had to get away from him... I was so afraid of my reaction.” 

A calm smile on her face, Ms Hudsons hugged her friend again. “I know what it is, you are neither crazy nor violent.” 

“What it is then?” Sherlock asked, wishing once more for the guidance of his old companion. 

“It’s your mate, my darling, your soulmate. Your reaction was protective, not destructive... his blood was calling you, not the blood of the men you killed, his. Only his.” 

Agitated, the detective protested, “this is an old woman's tale, you are crazy.” 

“This is the only option, and as someone told me years ago, that once you eliminate the impossible -” 

“You minx! Don’t chide me with my own words!” 

Opening the door, she pushed him outside. “You are tired, you need to stay calm and think about all this, then talk to John when you are ready.” 

“Goodnight, Hudders.” Kissing the wrinkled cheek, he turned and walked up the stairs to his flat. _ Soulmates, what a ridiculous idea! _

Lost in his thoughts, he hung his coat, removed his muddied shoes and was already beelining in direction of the bathroom for a shower when a voice stopped him. 

“Sherlock?” 

Turning on his heels, the vampire finally realized that he wasn’t alone. _ I must be more lost and tired than I thought. _Absorbing his presence as an elixir, he analysed the doctor as if it was the first time. Noting the small glass of liquor, the wrinkled newspaper opened at the crosswords, his worrying but caring eyes, the bandaged hand... 

“Sherlock... What’s going on? I -” 

“What are you doing here, John? You shouldn’t be here.” The vampire’s cold tone unable to hide the sadness... and the hope. “You should be at your place.” 

“Yes,” John acknowledged, stepping closer to the man he loves, “this is why I asked your brother to drive me _ home _.” 


	31. Scared, me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A good talk… AKA: The conclusion to this little story, that finally got really little to do with the movie. Except for the fact that Kate and Matthew are both also adorable.

Sherlock remained silent, unmoving while John’s words echoed in his mind. _ Home! John thinks Baker Street is home. _“You, you don’t know what you are saying.” 

“I am a grown man and I like to think that, yes, I know what I am saying.” The doctor objected with a cocky smile, betting that he was right and that Sherlock’s attitude since the cemetery was only fear of the unknown. 

The detective stepped back, afraid of the resolution in John’s demeanour, “don’t go all... all smug on me! You are crazy, you should run away from me, not invade my... my lair!”. 

“Your LAIR,” John laughed merrily as he closed the distance Sherlock put between them, “who are you, Dracula?” 

“You know what I mean...” the vampire stuttered, on edge, “you’ve seen all my flaws, you know that nothing good can come of it!” 

“Your flaws?” He was now standing dangerously close to Sherlock. “I don’t remember anything that horrible.” 

Quickly, the vampire cried the first idea that came up, “I am going to need you on cases. Often!” 

“I was feeling a bit rejected when you went on cases without me while I was at work, I think we may be able to find a way to combine the two.” _ Or that brother of yours is going to do a little something to help with that. _

“I often stay silent for hours, lost in my Mind Palace!” 

“Great. It’s going to give me personal time where you won’t be able to spoil the end of my novel or finish the crosswords for me.” 

“You always read such driv -” He straightened himself, “That’s not the point!”_ Ah! That Three Continents Watson he was laughing about on our third or fourth... date _ . _ That won’t do! _ “I am egotistical, I don't like the idea of sharing you with… two other continents!-” 

“Yes, totally exclusive, I can definitively live with that. In fact, I want the same, as I am particularity possessive of you myself if you hadn’t noticed.” 

“I play violin at all hours of the night!” 

“I love music, especially when played by a brilliant man, and anyway I can promise you that I have ideas that are going to _ motivate _ you to stay in bed with me.” 

Similar ideas sprung in his head, before going down south. _ This is ridiculous, I am not a blushing virgin, as I CAN’T EVEN BLUSH! _ “I am over 150 years old...” 

“I feel pretty old some days too, but when I am near you my weariness disappears. Can’t you see? You won’t be able to find anything that I don’t love. Sometimes you may be annoyingly cute but nothing will push me away.” With one last small step, he was able to stand near the object of his desire, feeling his presence as if it were a magnetic field. He murmured lovingly, “I was totally gone on you since the first day, but you were so bloody perfect that I nearly felt as if you weren’t honest with me... As if you were constantly wearing a mask. That you were too good for me. When you started to be a bit of a jerk sometimes, a bit lost in your thoughts instead of always being so considerate, that is when I knew it was possible. That is when I fell in love with you irremediably. When you opened up to me, when you showed your true self to me, that’s when I knew that our two_ imperfect _ lives would be perfect together.” 

“But... no... YOU are perfect.” Sherlock murmured, surprised that the smaller man was now directly in front of him, separated by merely a few centimetres. Unable to stop himself, he pressed a small kiss on his head, leaving his lips in his hair. 

“Me, perfect?” John arms enveloped the lithe body, “no... far from it. I am usually patient but I can be obstinate about certain things, I still have terrible nightmares and wake up screaming and fighting whoever is in bed with me, my family life is horrible, I don’t have a clue how a functional lasting relationship works, I am grumpy in the morning until I have at least two cups of tea, I often miss the war which is clearly not a good thing, I -” 

“I am a vampire.” Sherlock interrupted as if it was the ultimate deciding factor. 

“Yes, I know,” John sighed loudly, “such a bummer having to fight your sexiness and stamina all the time.” 

“I’m serious!” 

Not listening to Sherlock’s protestations, the doctor smiled knowingly. “You know, I think I found what it is.” Using his unarmed hand, he softy played with the luscious curls absently, murmuring as if he was talking to himself, “all your schemes to look unsuitable, the hundred texts, the jealous looks directed at my boss, the boorish attitude over the last days, leaving me all alone in that cemetery...” After a pause, John kissed the vampire delicately, “I didn’t say thank you for saving my life. Thank you.” He kissed him again and whispered, “thank you.” 

Lost for words, unable to fight the pull he felt towards John, Sherlock gasped, “you don’t understand -” 

“I know love, I know... I understand that you are scared. But I am too.” 

“Scared, me?” John hummed and nodded, leaving Sherlock space to think. “I, I am not sc-” He stopped and tried again, “I am not -” 

“It’s all right, love, you have the right, you know,” John said, soothingly. 

“I am... I am afraid that you are going to leave because I have done horrible things; I am afraid that one day I am going to attack you... I nearly did in the cemetery...” Tears were pearling from his beautiful eyes. “I am afraid that criminals like Moriarty are going to hurt you to hurt me. that I am going to love you so, so much but one day you are going to die and -” 

“Shush, darling, shush... Come here, we will work through things,” he gently pulled the vampire in the direction of the sofa, “I can’t guarantee you that I won’t be killed by a car next week, and it’s okay, it’s life. I can say though that I will never leave you because of your past, I have done horrible things myself because it was necessary for my survival.” He kissed his eyebrows, trying to chase away the look of concern. “Regarding Moriarty, the way he killed those vampires, I am also afraid that something is going to happen to you. Don’t you think it’s better to be there to protect each other? And regarding my so-called human fragility, your brother said that he’s going to have his eyes on me, whatever that means.” 

Sniggering at the thought of CCTV following John everywhere, he admitted, already vanquished, “it surely would be more... convenient... for your protection if you were here.” 

“Yes, more reasonable, of course.” John smiled, holding the man closed, knowing that it was a bit soon to talk about becoming a vampire himself._ A real forever with him, that would be the real paradise. _

They stayed on the sofa, kissing gently, caressing more daringly until a pliant Sherlock murmured close to John’s ear, “I was crazy to think that I could live without you... I love you, John.” 

“Me too, I love you, Sherlock.” 

Finally, all the doubts disappeared, leaving only desire and love. John, unable to control himself, was finally able to taste Sherlock’s lips again, longingly playing with them until they opened under the tender assault. Moaning, the vampire let go of his fear, embracing everything that was John. Intensifying the kiss, he pulled the smaller man over him, wanting to feel the warm body on his colder one. Revelling in the fact that he was the one who was causing John's little whimpering sounds and incoherent words. It was sloppy, messy but beautiful. Soon, the only sound in the room was the rasps of their breathing and the wet sound of their kisses. 

Lost in the moment and barely able to think, John raised his hand to angle Sherlock’s head and deepening the kiss further, if it were humanly possible, when the detective stopped moving suddenly. 

“What is it?” The doctor asked anxiously, before realizing that he was using his bandaged hand, “sweet, love, darling, don’t worry... I am not afraid of you. You did not do that, it was that psycho.” 

The shame rushing through him again, the vampire murmured, “but I wanted to lick the blood from your wound, it’s... it’s not... How could you -” 

“Shush,” he peppered small kisses all over his lovely face, “it’s the first time it happened since you stopped drinking human blood, isn’t?” As Sherlock nodded, sad and troubled, John kissed him again until the need to breathe forced him to break the connection, “that is so fucking sexy! I, ordinary John H. Watson, was able to trouble your great mind enough that you lost control after a century!” He laughed, grinding their manhoods together, wanting to be lost in the pleasure of having the tall man behind him until they were both panting in exertion. 

His head falling on Sherlock’s chest, John started to play with his shirt buttons, opening then one by one as he murmured, “I would have let you, you know...” 

“John...” Sherlock moaned, “don’t say things like that.” 

“On the contrary, it’s wonderful." He slowly started to lick and kiss the visible skin, "I can only think that it makes me... somewhat... special.” 

Sherlock was about to reply with something sappy when he heard John’s stomach rumble and chuckled at the inconvenience of his humanity. _ This is really inconvenient, and the sleeping and everything... _ He thought of how John’s blood sang to him, like a beacon calling. _ One day we are going to have to do something about this! _“HUDDERSSSSSSSS! John is hungry!” 

*Epilogue* 

“Are you sure you want to do this -” entering the flat, he changed in the upstairs spare room to surprise his boyfriend, John suddenly wasn’t able to say a word. Sherlock was magnificent. The burgundy velvet vest combined with a perfectly tailored black suit, the heavy cape with a satin lining matching the vest, his perfect curls temporarily tamed into a slick hairstyle... He was the poster-boy of the vampire archetype. And sexy as Hell. 

“Is this too obvious and easy?” The vampire looked at himself in the mirror over the mantle, unsure of his choice of costume. He knew that John was watching him carefully but didn’t dare to turn, a bit afraid that he would make fun of him. 

“It’s... wonderful, darling.” 

Sherlock turned, comforted by the deepness of the doctor’s voice and right on time to see the tell-tale lip licking. He smiled and winked, “Ohhhh… I’m THAT wonderful -” before he realized John’s costume. “Oh, darling, is this for me?” The former captain, knowing the vampire’s love for formal military costume, had chosen a 19th-century officer’s costume. Heavy red wool, copper buttons and tight, _ really damn tight _, breeches. “Oh... Captain, you ARE really happy to see me...” Sherlock laughed lewdly, stalking him predatorily, eyeing the evidence that John approved of his disguise. 

Stepping back and holding a hand before him, he shook his head, “we don’t have time for shenanigans, later, I promise.” 

With a sad pout, Sherlock shrugged his shoulders, “I guess we can keep the costumes one more day.”Offering him his arm, he smiled at his scrumptious captain. “come, darling, the car is waiting.” 

Forcing himself to be serious despite the excitement, he asked again, “are you sure you want to do this?” He talked to Sherlock about the bet a few days ago, after a good bottle of wine and a particularly satisfactory snogging session, and to his amazement, the man found it excessively funny. 

“I told you that if you are willing to make sure that I won my own bet, I really don’t mind... And I am planning on explaining with many details how marvellous you are and how totally in love I am.” _ How could his so-called friends dare to doubt John’s capacity to be loved unconditionally! _

“Good, but don’t count on a make-out session in a booth or something, this is a formal vets’ social occasion after all.” After a small kiss, he placed his hands on the heavy collar of Sherlock’s cape and pulled it straight, making the perfect dramatic backdrop to the vampire’s striking figure. “Voilà! Now it is perfect.” Hand in hand, they left the flat to slide into Mycroft’s car that was waiting in front of 221b.

Unaware that someone was looking at them with a grim smile.

“This won’t do, Moran, he’s mine,” Moriarty muttered, glaring at the gloriously happy couple on a monitor. “He's going to be mine or he’s going to die.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ouf! Done it, but 2 days late... Sorry, Fictober Gods/Goddesses!
> 
> If you are curious, look at my previous effort, something completely different with darling little Rosie!: The mischievous fairies (Fictober 2018) <https://archiveofourown.org/works/16149983/chapters/37734938>

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, I am the Queen of following the plot of a rom-com without actually following the plot of a rom-com. A small talent of mine. Mouhahah!! 
> 
> But the plot of the movie is really really paper-thin... I should have watched it over again before choosing to write an adaptation lol


End file.
